The Valley Of Your Heart
by rhythm junkie
Summary: THIS IS MY ENTRY FOR THE LOVE LIKE FIRE CONTEST. :::HOSTESS PICK WINNER!:::  Edward has always been there for Jasper but will Jasper see that?  AH/OOC/AU Please note that this is a SLASH story.
1. Chapter 1

**WINNER OF THE HOSTESS PICK FOR 'A LOVELIKEFIRE 2011' CONTEST.**

I'm beyond thrilled, truly I am. I won an amazing banner by myrobaddiction - she captured my idea of Jasper perfectly - **http : / twitpic . com / 54d88y**

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><p><strong>Title: <strong>The Valley Of Your Heart**  
><strong>

**Author: **RhythmJunkie

**Beta: **The delectable PortiaKhalo

**Pairing: **Jasper/Edward

**Rating: **M

**Prompt: **The Cave by Mumford and Sons

**Disclaimer: **Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight. All of it.

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><p>I'm standing in the middle of the playground with this big kid making fun of my hair. I'm seven and my mama still decides things like clothes and haircut. Can't really do much with my hair to be fair; it's thick and stands up everywhere and does what it wants to do regardless of my mother's coaxing.<p>

So I'm standing there, the new kid in a jeering mass of best friends and old allies, trying not to cry when someone says, "Leave him alone."

In the few weeks I've lived in Texas I've really grown to hate that accent but this particular light drawl nearly has me dancing in relief. Maybe because it's the first positive thing anyone's said to me in this stupid state. An absurd ache for the rain wells up in me and I feel my chin wobble a little. I try and fight it but the big kid notices.

"Aw, you gonna cry?" His face is close to mine and his mouth is twisted. I can see that one of his eyes is slightly higher than the other. For some reason it's all I can think about and my hands shake with the effort of holding that information in.

"I said leave him be." The voice is angry now but I still can't see the owner, angled as he is behind my tormentor. The big kid turns, cocky painted across his face. He's clearly the undisputed king of this territory.

"Whatcha gonna do Whitlock…" and a fist meets his face.

The big kid hits the asphalt with a thud, leaving me staring at a wiry boy with curly sun-blonde hair. He stares back at me, not smiling. I want to dance because the big kid is crying for his mama and everyone else is whispering and staring at the blonde boy, whose staring at me. I don't dance though.

Someone yells for the teacher and suddenly there are kids running around and grown-ups everywhere. One grabs the blonde kid by the arm and drags him towards the school, marching and admonishing, but his eyes never leave mine.

I stand watching the nurse help the big kid off the ground. His lip is busted and his nose is swelling. I try not to smile but it slips through before I can control it.

Then I'm running.

I ignore the yells of protest as I tear through the school wildly until I find the office. I ignore the surprised squeak of the receptionist and barrel through the door. The blonde kid is sitting on one side of the desk and the Principal is finger-wagging over the top of him. They both look up, surprised, when I skid to a halt, hands gripping the edge of the desk as I catch my breath.

"Young man," the Principal begins but I cut him off, my head too full of words to hold them back.

"You can't give him into any trouble," I pant, eyes for the grown-up in the room only, "He was defending me! That other kid was being…mean." I trail off, unable to voice what it really means; not to a grown-up. This boy, who doesn't know me, stepped up for me, effectively stopping me from becoming the go-to guy for beatings and taunting for the rest of my school career here.

"Is this true Jasper?" The Principal's voice is stern and I have a name: Jasper. I try it out in my head. It sounds exotic and foreign to me, a boy from a world of Mark's and Tom's and Eric's. I've obviously missed something because the Principal continues, "Well, that may be but we don't resort to violence…" I cut him off again.

"That other kid was going to punch me," I insist, leaning over the desk, "He was defending me."

"Young man, you need to wait outside."

Jasper joins me a few minutes later, taking the seat next to me, saying nothing. I fidget, unsure of what I should do. My seven-year-old brain can't process this kinda stuff. In the end I mumble a lame 'thanks'. I get no response.

We sit in silence, side by side, for a half hour until our parents show up. We get dragged into the office, me and Jasper's mama nervous, my parents agitated and Jasper…well, he just saunters in and sits down, giving nothing away. There's a lot of talk, some raised voices; I butt in and get reprimanded. Jasper's mama's voice has a pleading tone. He takes no notice.

"Mrs Whitlock, you understand this is an expulsion offence," the Principal speaks and Jasper's mama's head dips. Jasper stiffens beside her, his first visible reaction, and my father clears his throat to speak but the Principal holds up his hand for silence. "However, this young man seems adamant that your son was protecting him and so…" He pauses, looking at me hard. "I will let it slide this one time."

Jasper's mama squeals her thanks over and over and we're ushered out of the office. As soon as we're out, Jasper's mama grabs me in a hug that I think might crush my bones, whispering thank you in my ear over and over. We're sent to classes as our parents depart.

Jasper says nothing but he sits with me at lunch. I stop trying to make conversation after a while and just feel grateful for his presence.

After school we part at the gates and all night I worry that he won't be at school the next day or, worse, he'll avoid me. When I get to school the next morning he's waiting at the gate for me.

**OoOoOoOo**

The worst has happened. My dad was offered a new job in Washington and took it. We're leaving in three weeks. I'm with Jasper and I'm having a panic attack. I can't breathe. I can't. Jasper has his hand on my back soothingly.

"Gotta stay calm E," his voice reverberates through me like it always does when he speaks, "It'll be okay." And I'm furious.

"What?" I rasp in his face. "Are you kidding?"

He's used to my emotional tantrums and simply stands there, taking it. _Damn him!_ I'm moving across the damn country and my best friend is staying here. Even at twelve I know that isn't right.

"I'm not meant to be away from you Jasper," I tell him. He smiles and squeezes my shoulder.

"I know."

**OoOoOoOo**

We've been in the car twenty minutes, driving away from everything I need in my life. My palms are sweating and I can't stop shivering. I can see the concerned looks mama is giving dad when she thinks I'm not paying attention. I insisted we leave before Jasper was supposed to get to our house. I couldn't face saying goodbye. It would be too much. I already feel like my insides are exploding.

"Baby?" Mama's voice is so quiet, her eyes full of concern and suddenly I know I've messed up. I sit bolt upright and the look on my face makes her gasp.

"We need to go back," I say urgently and my voice scares me. Without a word, Dad u-turns the car and I will be forever grateful to him for just knowing.

When we get close to home he signals to turn on the road to Jasper's but I know Jasper won't be there so I gesture to go straight ahead, not trusting my voice. When we pull up in front of our house I see him. He's sitting on our porch steps just staring at nothing. I feel something in me break a little and I'm out of the car and running up the path. Jasper stands when he sees me and I throw myself into his arms and cling to him. I hear my parents come up behind us but I ignore them.

Jasper simply lets me. Like he always does. Totally unfazed by any of my behaviour.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I murmur, trying not to cry and he chuckles, rubbing between my shoulder blades.

"It's okay E," he whispers, "I knew you'd come back."

It takes mama a few minutes to prise my hands from Jasper's shoulders. She keeps asking me to let go but my fingers don't want to obey. When she finally gets him free, my Dad steps between us and gives Jasper a box.

"It's a phone son," he says, "You boys seem very fond of each other and Esme and I wanted to make it easy for the two of you to keep in touch." Jasper starts to protest but mama raises her hand, shushing him.

"We're paying for it – don't argue young man, you're family," she says firmly, "You use it as much as you like, don't worry about the bill."

Jasper's cheeks are pink and I move toward him but mama holds me back, probably worried about how long it will take to pull me away a second time.

"Thank you," he stammers, nodding at my dad as mama swoops down and kisses his cheek. Then he's in front of me, thrusting something into my hand. I look down and realise he's given me his dad's watch. I'm completely dumbstruck, holding Jasper's most prized possession in my hands.

"Jas, I can't…" I step forward but he steps away from me shaking his head.

"Take it E," he says, not looking at me, "Hold it for me."

I don't know what to say or do so I just gape at my hand. I look up and Jasper locks eyes with me.

"I'll come get it sometime," he whispers and I know then that our separation is just as hard for him as it is for me, that this is his way of keeping me. I twist out of mama's grasp and it's another ten minutes before she can pry me and Jasper apart.

**OoOoOoOo**

I hate Forks.

It's cold.

It's wet.

It's full of trees that are too big and plants that don't seem to know where they belong. I miss the heat and the bitingly dry wind; I miss the smell of warm leather and hay. I miss Jasper. I miss him so much that it's a physical ache I carry with me every day. I have no interest in these pale kids who whisper behind their hands about me, the new kid again.

I feel like I'm missing a limb. It hurts to breathe. Mama's been watching me, her face pinched with anxiety. I try to reassure her but I feel blown apart and I don't think I do so well at hiding it all the time.

I'm sitting alone at lunch, wondering what Jasper is doing, when a girl with long brown hair stumbles into the chair opposite me. Her apple tumbles from her tray as she tries to right herself and I reach out, catching it and handing it back. She smiles gratefully.

"Bella Swan," she says in a sweet voice that makes me smile instantly, "and you're Edward Cullen."

I nod and know that I've found a friend. My ache for Jasper intensifies.

**OoOoOoOo**

Jasper's mama has died. My dad flew down immediately and I'm waiting at the airport for him to bring Jasper home to me. I feel horrible because I feel a little bit happy. I shouldn't. I know Jasper loved his mama and he must be hurting so bad that it twists my insides to think about it but I can't help the little gleeful spark in my stomach knowing he's on his way to me.

I've only seen Jasper once since leaving Texas and that was almost a year ago when he came to visit for a week in the summer. We speak on the phone every day but it isn't the same as him sitting silently next to me, just being there.

I see them coming through the terminal and mama has to hold me back from running over and leaping on my friend. When he gets closer I can see black circles under his eyes. He hasn't been sleeping and I'd bet my chucks he hasn't been eating either.

When they're a few steps away he looks up and meets my eye and the misery in his face knocks me back a step. My body erupts in mirroring anguish. He's my best friend and it kills me to see him like this, knowing I can't make it better. Suddenly I'm irrationally angry at Jasper's mama for making his face twist with sadness. He shouldn't ever look like that. Rage twists my gut hard and I have to clench my fists behind my back to hold it in.

We sit, side by side, in the car on the way home. I don't say anything. Neither does he. Mama fusses around him when we get into the house, making sure he eats, trying to comfort him with little things like a stroke of her hand over his curls. I can see it's hurting him more, reminding him of what he's lost, and I want to scream at her to leave him be. I start a little, surprised at this. I try to shake it off but there's a voice in my head telling me that I know Jasper better than anyone else and I'm the only one who knows how to comfort him; I'm the only one who _should_ be comforting him.

Finally my parents are satisfied they've done everything they can to make Jasper feel at home so I grasp his wrist and pull him off the stool and lead him upstairs. I pull him into my room and sit him on the end of the bed. This could be awkward but I refuse to let it be. I might only be fourteen but Jasper is my best friend, my responsibility, and I'm going to take care of him.

I bend down and unlace his boots, pulling them off along with his socks. He just sits there. I go to the bathroom and get a warm washcloth. I wash his face, neck and hands, getting the plane off of his skin. Still he just sits there and he's scaring me but I refuse to give in to it. I'm gonna be strong for him because he needs me.

When he's clean, I pull him up the bed and lay him down. I lie beside him and wait. I know Jasper. I know him well enough not to push him. We lay there, not speaking, staring at the ceiling. After an eternity, he rolls on his side and presses into me. I roll towards him and let him push closer, like he's trying to hide under my skin. I put my arm around him and stroke his hair. I don't say anything. He holds onto me like he's drowning and I feel a shameful tug of pleasure in my brain knowing he's relying on me. I push it away and pull him closer. His breaths are hot and hard against my shoulder for a little while until he suddenly sighs, flexes his fingers against me, and relaxes in my arms. I know he's found the sleep he so desperately needs and that little niggle of pleasure is back, knowing I'm the reason for it.

**OoOoOoOo**

Jasper doesn't like it when I'm not nearby so I make sure I'm always within touching distance. He doesn't say it but I can tell by the way his panicked eyes follow my footsteps. Sometimes he gets this look on his face like he's sinking, and I have to reach out and hold onto him to bring him back. Times like that he clings to me, saying everything he needs to with body language. Other times just a brush of my arm or hand is enough to calm him.

Mama has taken me out of school for two weeks and most days I get up early to do a few hours schoolwork at my desk before waking Jasper. The one time he woke up and I wasn't there he had a panic attack, hunting the house for me. Dad had to give him a shot to calm him down. I made sure that didn't happen again. We have breakfast then he sits on the floor by my chair, sometimes reading, sometimes staring into space, always touching my ankle, whilst I finish what I don't get done in the morning.

The afternoon is ours and mostly we lounge in the garden or in the conservatory if it's wet outside. Sometimes I get him to venture into town but I can tell this makes him unhappy, his face rigid whenever we leave the sanctuary of my house. Our house.

**OoOoOoOo**

I'm at the airport again. I didn't even get two weeks with Jasper before someone wanted to separate us. Jasper is standing beside me, the social worker with the pitying eyes on his other side. He doesn't want to leave. His entire body is rigid. I don't speak to him because I'm afraid if I open my mouth then I might have a complete break-down. This is worse than the first time we were separated. Somehow this feels final and I'm terrified. I thought Jasper was gonna stay with us, I know my parents were planning on keeping him. He didn't even know his mama had a cousin Maria.

He should be staying here with people who know him; with people who love him. My fists itch to beat the stupid social services woman and my throat aches to scream that he's mine and she can't take him. I can't do that, I know I can't. I really want to.

"It's time boys."

I can't. This isn't fair. This isn't how it's supposed to be. He isn't meant to be leaving me again. I feel like I've turned to stone beside him. I know he's looking at me but I can't look at him. I can't. I'm so scared I might break open right here in this too-hot airport lounge. I dig my nails into my palm, trying to breathe, trying to think.

Jasper touches me and I feel calm radiating from his palm into my body. I don't know how he does that but it's like he just knows. He always just knows. He pulls me into a hug and I don't want to let him go and shit, shit, shit, this hurts.

"I'll call you," he rasps in my ear and I just cling harder. The social worker takes his arm and firmly tugs him away. He won't meet my eyes. I want to say something but I don't know what.

"Don't forget me," he whispers, low and hard, then he's gone through the terminal with a woman who knows nothing about him. It takes both mama and dad to hold me back from running after him.

I go back to school on Monday and sweet Bella is sympathetic and lovely and all I can think is _she's not Jasper _and my head hurts from not sleeping and my eyes hurt from crying and my heart hurts from missing him.

"What's up Cullen?" Mike is standing in the carpark, with his stupid friends who don't know what friendship means, sneering at me. "Your boyfriend leave?"

It takes three people to drag me off him. I'm suspended for a week.

**OoOoOoOo**

It's been four months since I heard from Jasper. I don't know what to do. Dad won't let me fly down there. Mama says he's probably caught up in his new life and I want to yell at her that I _am_ his life and I don't know what to do.

At first he called every night as usual. Then he started sounding odd. I gave him space, because it's Jasper and I know Jasper, but he just got more distant. Then he started missing a day, then two. For a while he called once a week and our conversations were so meaningless that I wanted to cry. They were the best times of my week. They were the worst times of my week. I ached for my Jasper, not this odd robot-boy he'd been replaced with. One day he hung up and never called again.

Now I'm here, four months on, and mama is talking about therapy and dad is watching me carefully all the time and I want to scream. But I don't. I stay quiet. I don't let them see how bad it is. Because it's really bad.

Nothing makes sense without Jasper. It's like the world twisted a little when I wasn't looking and now everything except my pain is slightly off, slightly out of focus. I'm losing weight and I'm not sleeping and everyone's worried but I can't bring myself to care because none of them are Jasper.

Mama makes me my favourite meals but taste and texture don't live in my world anymore. Dad takes me out, to ball games and films, but words and actions don't make sense in my brain. The only one who seems to understand is Bella, who comes over and sits with me in silence. And I love her for it _but she's not fucking Jasper_.

I'm lying on my bed, it's 2am, and I know I'm not sleeping again tonight. I lie quite still, letting the abyss inside me rage because this is the only time I can give up control and give into the destruction that swirls beneath my skin. Something is pushing at my consciousness, trying to pull me back, but I fight it. This is the only time I get to feel my pain.

I start, realising the phone my dad gave me to keep in contact with Jasper is ringing. I leap off my bed and dig through my desk to find it. By the time I get it in my hand its gone dark but I can see Jasper's name listed on the screen in the green 'missed call' colour. It starts ringing in my hand and I drop it, my heart beating out of my chest. I scramble at my feet and pick it up, pulling it to my ear quickly in case he hangs up.

"Hello?"

At first there's nothing but breathing on the other end and I think my heart is going to explode from the adrenalin coursing through my system.

"Jasper?" My voice is hesitant, quiet. Then I hear a harsh sob and it's like someone flipped a switch in my brain and everything that's been missing this past four months comes rushing in, tearing through me like a hurricane, dropping me to my knees. All the colours and sounds and tastes and textures and smells…it's too much information, too much to process, so I pull my t-shirt over my head and hide inside it.

"Edward."

His voice is tiny. Not the voice I'm used to. It sounds so small, so broken. I close my eyes and feel harsh, silent tears soaking my skin. I'm shaking.

"E?" He says again and my heart clenches.

"Jasper, what's wrong?" I fumble my words. "Are you hurt?"

He cries harder and I don't understand what world this is because my Jasper doesn't cry. My Jasper is quiet and smart and sturdy and he doesn't cry and I don't understand what's happening, I don't understand.

"I'm sorry I haven't called," he whispers and the raw tone, like he's been screaming for hours, tears at the shreds of my heart, "but they took my phone and I only just managed to find it. I was so scared you would be mad and you wouldn't want to talk to me Edward, I was so scared…"

He trails off and I'm furious. Someone is hurting him, I know it. I swear I'll kill them. He's mine. No one should ever hurt him, not ever. My body is stiff with rage and I clutch the phone so hard I hear the plastic case groan in my ear.

"Edward…?" His voice is hesitant and he shouldn't ever have to be hesitant with me.

"Jasper, I will always want to talk to you," I hiss fiercely into the mouthpiece, "no matter what, I will always want you. You're my best friend."

He cries for a while and I sit at the bottom of the bed, biting my lip so hard I can taste blood, listening to him. He's hurting and I want to make it better and I want to kill everyone who has made him like this and I want to hold him and I want to take his pain from him because he should only ever smile and I feel so utterly helpless.

"Jasper," I whisper and I hear him quieting to hear me, "I'm gonna get my dad to come get you…" He cuts me off, his panicked breaths raising my own.

"No, no, no E you can't!" He's so fucking scared, out of his mind, and I can feel a hard ball of rage taking residence in the pit of my stomach.

"Jasper…" I try but he's begging me and begging me, sobbing and gasping, and I can't say no to him. He's my best friend.

I agree to keep quiet and he promises to call me every couple of days and then we go quiet, just listening to each other's breathing, reassuring ourselves the other is still there. Eventually he has to go and reluctantly I hang up, clutching the now-silent phone in my hand so tightly my fingers ache.

The next morning the rage is still there, hard and cold, waiting to be put to use. I go downstairs to breakfast and dad and mama are sitting across the table from each other. They look up, concern on their faces changing to surprise when they take in my expression.

"I want to join a gym." I just come right out with it. Dad's eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he glances at mama.

"Oh?" He says and I can tell he's trying to come up with a suitable answer to what wasn't a question.

"To get fit," I spit and he nods approvingly. Mama is looking at me, a hint of suspicion on her face but she's so pleased that I'm acting alive that I think she'd agree to let me do anything

"I'll sort it out…" Dad says.

"Today," I reply, "I want to get started after school."

I'm determined to get strong. When Jasper is ready I'm gonna go fetch him but I'm gonna make sure that I'm in the right shape to kill whoever is hurting him.

**OoOoOoOo**

It's a boiling hot June night but I'm ice cold. Jasper hasn't called in four days and I'm scared. Saturday night we'd been talking about the summer holidays and being seniors when we go back after the break when he'd suddenly whispered "E, I gotta go, I gotta go".

I sit with the phone in my hand and I will the hunk of junk to ring. I'm so scared someone found out about the phone they thought they'd taken from him. Or something worse.

I close my eyes against the thought but my brain regales me with every wincing breath I've heard fall from Jasper's lips the past three years, every small admission of the torture inflicted on him daily by Maria and her bitch sisters. He tells me it isn't that bad but I fucking know he's keeping it light, protecting me.

I'm shaking with rage and fear and adrenalin so I head over to the weight bench and start lifting. Ever since that night he called, crying and wretched, I work out. I've run and lifted and punched and jumped and skipped my body into a powerhouse for him. I'm never gonna be big like the muscle-heads but I'm fast and lithe and fucking ripped. Girls at school started to notice last year, nudging each other and whispering behind their hands about me, but I didn't do it for vanity. I intend to protect what's mine and had to make sure I had the necessary tools to do so.

I'm trying to work off the adrenalin and I hear a rattle of something against my window. Getting up, I go over and throw it wide, leaning out into the cool night. I can't see shit.

"Hello?"

"E."

I know that voice. My whole body goes into palpitations and I lean further out, scouring the lawn below my window for a figure I haven't seen in three years. Looking back up at me, from fucking haunted eyes, is Jasper. My Jasper.

"Stay there," I instruct, "I'm coming down" but he shakes his head frantically and starts climbing the tree outside my window. A few minutes later he's pulling himself over my sill and fuck he looks like shit, like a hobo or something.

I take in his clothing, layered and filthy, the smell about enough to knock me flat. His face has dried blood on it and some sort of marks I can't quite make out because of the dirt on his skin and the dim light in my room. We stand, staring at each other for what feels like forever and my heart is beating out of my chest because he's here and he's safe and he's alive and he's fucking here!

I step forward and yank him into me. Shit, it feels so good to be able to touch him. I've missed that so much. I feel his hands fisting my shirt and he's clinging to me and I'm back to scared because this isn't my Jasper and something is wrong. Now the initial elation at seeing him has worn off, I can feel in my bones that something is very very fucked.

"Jas?" I try to pull back so I can look at him but he clings tighter, face buried in my shoulder, body quivering against mine. I stay, holding him, and this time I whisper comfort into his dirty, matted hair because this is a broken version of my Jasper and I can feel that he needs it. He's mumbling and I can't understand what he's saying so I pull him back a little and tilt my head.

"…couldn't take it…so much pain…fucking bitches…so fucking scared E…really hurt me…killed her…"

My stomach drops into my knees and, shit, because I suddenly recognise that smell, the one hidden under the dirt and the grime and the tears.

Blood.

I drag him into the bathroom, flipping the light on and flipping it straight back off when he hisses behind my neck. I sit him gently on the toilet and start running a bath. As soon as it's done, I turn back to him. He's just sitting there, watching me, trusting me.

I pull him up and unzip the ugly, puffy jacket he's wearing, pulling it from his shoulders and depositing it on the floor near the door. The t-shirt he's wearing is stained with dried blood but that's not what makes my eyes go wide and my entire body clench.

The marks on his face? Bite marks. Motherfucking bite marks. I can see them, some scabbed and healing, some already healed into vivid white scars. They trail down his neck and disappear under the caked t-shirt he wears. Slowly I motion him to raise his arms and he does, obedient as a child.

With the t-shirt off I can see the bite marks mar his entire upper body. I quickly take off the rest of his clothes, thinking _rip the band-aid Edward, just rip_. When he's naked in front of me, I can see that they cover his entire body, like someone's been using him as their own personal chew toy. New ones crisscross angry pink wounds which, in turn, crisscross old, faded silver scars. This abuse has obviously been going on since he was taken from me and the wrath I feel is making my bones grind.

Gently I lead him to the bath and help him in. He sits, patiently, as I wash every inch of his skin, wiping away that fucking bitch and her sisters and whomever else they allowed to mark my beautiful boy. I wash out his hair and then, softly, his face and neck.

Once he's dry I go wake my dad.

I spend the next week in the hospital, by Jasper's side. My mama takes care of us and my dad administers his treatment whilst dealing with the police, lawyers and everyone else that has to be involved. Turns out Jasper snapped and stabbed Maria and her sisters to death then spent four days hiking from Texas to Washington. To me.

The police speak to him, as do the FBI, profilers and psychologists. My dad is polite but firm that, this time, Jasper is staying with us. I never leave his side.

We spend the summer at home, recuperating and reconnecting. There's an investigation into the abuse, into Maria and her sisters, but no matter how much people try to get Jasper to talk, he'll only say the minimum about it.

His scars are healing but it's slow going. Every night I rub antiseptic cream on his body because mine is the only touch he'll tolerate. The little flash of glee I get from this is totally kept at bay by the horror of what he's been through. My heart hurts for every single mark he has on his skin and I find myself wanting to press my lips to each one, to let him know they don't matter to me. I don't.

Turns out he hasn't been to school for a year because that bitch thought the marks were getting too obvious. Mama gets work from the school-board that's designed to help him catch up in time for senior year. I patiently help him with everything but he barely needs it – he's always been the smartest of the two of us.

The only time we're separated is when he has to see the court-appointed therapist and even then I sit in the waiting room for the hour. It was decided, after taking everything into consideration, that no charges were to be brought against Jasper on the condition that he spent an hour a week with a psychologist. He doesn't talk about it. I don't ask.

**OoOoOoOo**

When school starts back, people are wary of Jasper. Only Bella looks at him like a person instead of something to be whispered about. There are some great rumours that go around to explain his appearance – the court kept his name quiet because he was still a minor so we'd managed to keep the story outta the Forks gossip mill.

We're sitting at lunch and it's October, dull and wet outside, and I'm noticing the girls of Forks High noticing Jasper. They whisper behind their hands, like they did with me, but there's more fervour in their glances. I'm angry but I can't figure out why. I don't want them looking at him. I listen to them giggle when he speaks in that southern drawl, watch them blush when he calls them 'miss'. I know he does it because he hasn't bothered to learn their names but they don't. That knowledge makes me feel a little bit better but I still don't get why my hands ache to clench when I hear Jessica Stanley whispering about how 'shit-hot' Jasper is.

Jasper, for his part, never seems to take notice and it worries me a little how hard I watch him for any evidence that he wants one of these girls. I didn't realise I had such a jealous streak. It makes my hands a little sweaty when I think about being jealous of a girl dating my best friend. It's not like someone could come between us. I mean, if Maria couldn't break our bond then no one can, right?

I get up and head to gym early, nodding at Jasper but avoiding the question in his eyes. I leave him with Bella, who I've noticed seems to be the only girl not interested in a piece of my best friend. She's safe. That thought freaks me out a little so I hurry faster, trying to outrun whatever my subconscious is aiming to tell me.

When I get to the locker-room I'm stopped by Mike's voice, loud and obnoxious in the echoey space.

"I don't get what Bella sees in him," he snorts, "I mean he acts so fucking superior all the time."

I know without doubt that he's talking about me. I didn't realise Bella had feelings for me that way. Shit. I don't know what to do with that information. I'm about to walk round the corner when Tyler speaks.

"She doesn't seem to be getting anywhere," he says quietly and Mike snorts again.

"Probably 'cos Cullen is fucking that scarred freak he's towing around with him. Only boyfriend he could get." There's laughter and my ears are ringing. "I feel sorry for the freak to be honest but if I looked like that I suppose I'd take it wherever I could get it too." More laughter and there are black spots swimming in front of my eyes. My body has tensed in anticipation of beating Mike until he can't speak anymore. All I can think is _fucking destroy_.

There's a hand gripping my shoulder, turning me around and Jasper is there, shaking his head at me, bringing me out of my rage-haze. I tilt my head, silently asking how he knew, and he shrugs, silently telling me he just did. It's always been this way with Jasper. It's like he knows what I'm feeling before I do. He guides me out of the locker-room and sits with me in the corridor until I've calmed down. I know he heard their accusations but I don't say anything and he doesn't either.

**OoOoOoOo**

I fucking hate Alice Brandon. It's odd because, although she's never gone out of her way to be nice to me, she's never been mean to me either and I always quite liked the bubbly little thing. Now she's sitting across from me, half in the chair, half in Jasper's lap, laughing and touching him and I want to tear her throat out and drink her blood. I'm so furious I can feel it rushing under my skin.

She laughs again and traces one of the bite-marks on his face. I watch him freeze out of the corner of my eye and I reach across and grab Bella's hand to stop myself from slapping Alice to the floor for daring to make Jasper uncomfortable. I don't understand why he's sitting there, just letting her when it clearly makes him unhappy and I can't look at them anymore so I look over at Bella whose smiling at me so brightly and I can't figure out why she's glowing so much, then I see our joined hands. Fuck. But she's smiling and I smile back and, you know, she's kinda beautiful when she glows like she's lit from the inside.

Alice is laughing again and I turn my head to see her press a kiss against Jasper's ear and I can't take it. I shove my chair away and leave, ignoring him calling after me. I need to get out of this fucking cafeteria because sitting there watching Alice fucking Brandon paw the man I love is ripping me apart.

I stop suddenly and sit down hard. I love him. Fuck. I love him. Fuck, fuck I _love_ him. I sit for a long time, trying to figure out when he stopped being my best friend and became the person I wanted and I just can't find the distinction.

"Edward?"

I look up and the three of them are standing over me, Bella looking worried, Alice confused and Jasper wearing a face I don't know how to interpret. Since when have I not been able to interpret Jasper? Alice is still touching him, her fingers wrapped around the belt-loop of his jeans, thumb stroking under his t-shirt. I stand up, ignoring them both and turn to Bella. She jumps, looking up at me with wide brown eyes.

"Bella." I make my voice low and I think she gasps a little. I sense Jasper shifting in my peripheral but I ignore him. "Would you like to go to dinner Friday night?"

She lights up like a Christmas tree, nodding enthusiastically, and I put my arm around her and lead her to her class, ignoring the tight band of tenderness around my torso.

**OoOoOoOo**

I'm in my room and Bella is on top of me, kissing my neck, her fingers ghosting under the collar of my shirt. We've been dating nearly five months now and I'm still not sure how dinner turned into boyfriend and girlfriend. Or how any of it turned into me lying on my bed on a Saturday night with sweet Bella moaning and rubbing herself against me.

She's been hinting at wanting more for a while now. I've managed to keep her to kissing so far, playing the gentleman card, but she's so determined and she told me something tonight that rent a hole in my soul.

She came up, all bouncy and kitten-cute, whispering at me about being ready to lose her virginity. I can't do that, it's wrong for both of us although she doesn't know that yet, so I said no and she pouted in that way she does and then dropped the bombshell.

"Come on Edward, Jasper and Alice have already done it."

That shit hurt. I already suspected as much, I've been careful not to show interest in Jasper's relationship with Alice Brandon in case he felt the need to share, but having it confirmed was more painful than I had anticipated. I didn't expect him to stay untouched just because I have a crush on him but I really really wish I didn't know.

I close my eyes against Bella's kisses, and the images of Alice undressing Jasper, and try to control the total devastation I'm feeling. I want to cry. Like a fucking girl, I want to curl up and weep. I want to smash things. Why should she get to touch him when I have to work so hard every damn day to make sure I stay on the right line of friendship?

I realise Bella has taken advantage of my distraction and unbuttoned my shirt, pushing it off my chest. I look up at her, those big brown eyes shining with lust, and I think _maybe she can take away the hurt_. So when she tries to pull my shirt off, I lean up and help her. She looks totally shocked for a moment then attacks my chest with gusto. I just lay there, letting her.

She's got her shirt off and my jeans unbuttoned, her hand boldly slipping under my boxers, when my bedroom door swings open to reveal Jasper in the doorway, holding up two dvd boxes.

"Hey E, which one…" He looks up, taking in the scene in front of him, and freezes. His eyes find mine and it takes all my willpower not to shrink back at the fury corrupting his face. Bella starts yelling at him to get out but he ignores her, eyes locked with mine, vibrating with rage. I don't know what to do so I do nothing.

Bella scrambles for her shirt and we both jump when Jasper retreats, slamming my bedroom door so hard the windowpane rattles in its frame.

"What the hell is his problem?" Bella is shaken, trying to button her shirt with trembling fingers. Truthfully, I'm trembling inside too but I lock that shit down and shrug a 'no idea' at her. I've never been afraid of Jasper. I don't think I can say that truthfully anymore.

We try to salvage the evening but Bella is perched on the edge of my bed, eyes flickering to the door every few seconds, and I've retreated deep into my head – my Emoward moments, Bella calls them.

"I'll take you home," I tell her at 10pm and she nods gratefully, grabbing her stuff faster than I've ever seen her move.

When I get back, the house is dark and quiet and I think Jasper has probably headed over to Alice's. It's not often I have the house to myself and it doesn't feel right. I go upstairs to my room and just lay in the dark, trying to figure out what the hell happened.

I've been lying here an hour , no closer to figuring out this fucking puzzle, when my bedroom door flies open again, slamming into the wall, making me jump like a fucking gazelle. Jasper is standing in the doorway, face dark with anger, wearing jeans and nothing else. Fuck. I try not to look but that shit is hard. He took to working out with me when he got out of the hospital and he looks good. He looks really fucking good. His scars glitter a little in the dim light cast from the hallway and, honestly, they make him look completely stunning.

"Yeah Edward, take a good fucking look," he jeers and I flinch. He's never used that tone with me before and it makes me want to punch him, and it makes me want to cry. "Take a real good look at the freak." He gestures to his torso and stalks into my room. I can tell by the lazy way his words fall that he's been drinking. That's not right. Jasper doesn't drink. Ever. Bad associations. But he's definitely been drinking.

"I want my dad's watch," he hisses at me, standing at the foot of my bed, eyes narrowed and fixed on my face. I'm not gonna deny it, I'm scared. I slide off the bed without a word and edge past him. He turns with me and follows me to the dresser. My hands shake under his relentless stare and I can't get my clammy fingers to grip the drawer I need. He hisses and reaches around me, yanking it out and dumping it on the floor. It clatters at my feet and my underwear spills out over the wooden floorboards. He towers over me as I bend down, fumbling through fabric until I find the silk scarf mama gave me to wrap the watch in. I stand and hand it to him, avoiding eye contact.

He's a foot away from me, chest heaving. He unwraps the watch and throws the scarf in my face. I don't react. I haven't met this furious Jasper before so I have to improvise, dropping my head and keeping my posture as submissive as possible. He stalks to the door and I don't move. He slams the door, even harder than before, and I start breathing but not for long because the door swings open and he's back again.

"So were you just gonna fuck that little slut with me in the house?" His voice is low and he's in my face, close enough that I can feel heat rolling from him, alcohol and rage combined. "I mean what the fuck Edward. Some little bitch sticks her hand down your pants and you're ready to roll over and play fucking dead? Are you that fucking hard up?"

I thought he liked Bella. I don't know where this is coming from but he's never been mad at me before and I can't breathe and I can't stop my eyes meeting his any more than I can hide the hurt in them. I'm actually going to cry.

"Aw, you gonna cry to your mama Edward," he sneers and I swear my heart is breaking, actually fracturing in my chest. I step back, turning away from him.

"Fuck you Jasper."

He hits my back and we sprawl to the floor, a heavy tangle of limbs. I hit hard and pain blooms in my legs, the air knocked straight out of my lungs. I'm gasping as he flips me onto my back and straddles my chest, holding my wrists down with one hand, the other yanking my hair. His eyes look black, like he isn't even there, and he's never laid a hand on me before and suddenly I'm not scared anymore. I'm sad. Sadder than I've ever been. I go completely limp under him. It doesn't matter what he does now. My whole body hurts inside and I just lie there, waiting for him to make his judgement.

I feel him lower his head and I just wait. His mouth is close to my ear, I can feel him breathing on my neck, and still I wait. I can feel tension shuddering his body as it lies on mine. Then he shifts and his very apparent erection presses against my thigh. My eyes open to find his just inches away. I can feel my whole world rocking unsteadily around me, pivoting on this one moment of eyes and bodies and anger. His face shifts and it's hurt and fear and loss that ripples his features. My body reacts immediately, pressing up against him to offer what comfort it can.

"I thought you were mine E," he whispers, his breath caressing my lips, "I thought I was yours." His eyes are brighter than I've ever seen them and my whole body is vibrating to the chord of his sadness. "I thought you loved me."

"I do love you Jas…" I manage before his mouth is on mine, scorchingly insistent. I kiss him back as best I can from my position pinned beneath his body, pressing my tongue against his mouth, nearly crying with joy when his lips part for me. My tongue presses into the dark damp of him and I groan as his presses back firmly, sliding into my mouth. His movements are needy and hard and I love that he's showing me how he feels in the best way he knows. I twist my wrists a little, trying to indicate I want to touch him, but he growls in my mouth and holds them tighter. He's asking me to give up control and I do. I give up to the only person in the world I trust unequivocally and allow myself to just feel.

I've been trying not to fantasise about Jasper and I'm glad I mostly succeeded because reality kicks my imagination's ass. I hear myself groan wantonly when he tears my shirt and sinks his teeth into the muscle that runs along the top of my shoulder. One hand still in my hair, tugging with just enough pressure to make my eyes roll back in my head, Jasper's hot mouth trails up my neck to my ear.

"Edward," he whispers against me and the dark tone makes me shiver, "You're mine."

I nod vigorously against his shoulder, my entire body alive in a way I've never experienced before. I'm trembling and sweating. I'm pretty sure the low moaning is coming from me but I can't be sure because all I can focus on is the spine-tingling places Jasper's body is pressed against mine and the way my skin feels like it's never been touched before.

"Edward," he repeats, his tongue hot against the rim of my ear. I shudder.

"Yours," I pant, eyes closed against the sheer bliss of him, "I'm yours."

His hand releases my hair and unbuttons my jeans in one swift move, shoving them down my thighs. I gasp at the feel of cool air on my skin then yelp when Jasper shoves his hand down my boxers, gripping me tightly. All the air leaves my lungs and I forget how to breathe.

"Is this what you wanted?" His voice is harsh against the mind-numbing pleasure of his hand on my cock, "Is this what you wanted _her_ to do?"

I can't think around the friction of his palm firmly stroking me and I can't make my brain work enough to figure out what the correct response is so I drop my head back and focus on his touch and the way it reverberates through my entire body. I think I'm shivering.

"I don't want her touching you Edward," he hisses as his hand picks up speed and all I can do is nod and nod and nod, eyes tight closed, the sensuality of his touch and his mouth and his body heat crashing through my skin.

"You're fucking mine," he snarls in my ear and I let go of everything, body arching beneath him, skin singing for him. Pleasure so intense it hurts slams through me and I cry out as love and lust and want and need implode my senses. The world goes white and all I am aware of is this delicious hurricane racing through my muscles, my own moaning voice and the press of Jasper's skin on mine.

I break up with Bella on Monday.

**OoOoOoOo**

Bella looks up when I walk into the cafeteria and gives me a smile. I smile back but turn away quickly. She and Alice don't sit with us anymore but I have to pass her, looking blown apart, to reach the table I sit at with Jasper. I hate seeing her. I know that expression. I've worn that expression. It makes me feel like the biggest dick in the world that I didn't realise I was that person for her. If I had I swear I would never have let things become what they became.

Jasper looks up as I approach the table. He looks perfectly normal but I know better. He pushes out the chair next to him and I sit down. As soon as I'm sitting, his hand finds my thigh and slides high. I freeze.

"You were thinking about her," he says casually, without looking at me. I don't know how he knows but he always fucking knows. He can read me like no one else can. I love it and I hate it. There are no secrets from Jasper. I don't bother to deny it, there's no point. His hand slides higher and I work to keep my breathing even.

"You shouldn't be thinking of anyone but me," he says conversationally, massaging my groin with his fingertips. I bite my lip, trying desperately to hold in the moan that begs for release. I'm gripping the table, knuckles white.

"Eat your lunch Edward." His voice brokers no argument so I spend a half hour trying to choke down food whilst his hand continuously kneads my increasing hardness. At one point I look up, face flushed, body trembling, to find Angela Weber staring at us with wide eyes. I can't look away from her. Jasper increases the pressure of his hand and smirks at her challengingly. She flushes and drops her eyes and I suppress the urge to let my eyes roll back in my head.

When the bells rings, signalling the beginning of 5th period, Jasper stands up and I stay exactly where I am.

"Aren't you coming Edward?" His tone is mocking and I don't miss the double meaning in his words. I shake my head.

"I'll catch you up."

He walks away, dropping his arm easily around Alice's shoulders when they converge at the cafeteria entrance. Bella looks back at me once before slipping out after them.

I know the fact that he's still with Alice is a hypocrisy I should call him on but I don't know how. Whenever I decide to, he turns those eyes on me and I lose my nerve. I focus hard to decrease the bulge in my pants but I'm resigned to being late for 5th period.

Most of the time he's still my Jasper, who sits quietly with me and is my best friend. Sometimes though, more so recently, he's this other Jasper. The one with possession burning in his eyes; the one who teases me mercilessly and viciously. I don't understand when the shift happened. I was always the one who wanted to protect and take care of Jasper, that was my role in our friendship. Now I'm unsure.

It's not lost on me that he's still to let me touch him. I accommodate him because I want to make him comfortable with me. With us. Because I love him. It's not lost on me that he allows Alice to touch him. Every time he leaves with her I swear to myself that it's the last damn straw. And I mean it. Right up until he climbs into my bed at 3am, fresh from the shower, makes me moan with his touch and the sweet words he whispers against the shell of my ear and falls asleep with his arms and legs tightly caging me to him.

**OoOoOoOo**

It's two weeks until graduation and we're at Tyler's house party. The music's loud and the press of bodies is making me claustrophobic. There's a lot of drinking and it's that point of the night where people are pairing off. I say pairing off … Jessica Stanley is in Mike Newton's lap grinding like mad and all the corners of this dimly lit room seem to be filled with couples doing the same. I need to pee but I see Bella waiting in line and I just don't have the stamina for a run-in so I detour to the en-suite I know Tyler's parents have. As soon as I open the door I know I've made a mistake.

Alice is on her knees between Jasper's legs, his hand resting lightly on the back of her head. It's obvious what she's doing. I feel sick. He's looking at the wall, his face completely blank. I knew they were together in theory but I'd never been witness to the truth of it quite so brutally. There's a flare of pain in my stomach that rapidly radiates out and I feel my knees buckle. I back out before I collapse but not before Jasper's head turns to me. I don't wait to see his expression.

I run.

I see Bella's stricken face as I rush past her but I don't stop. I think I hear Jasper's voice but it only makes me run harder. Wind screams through my lungs and I slam through my front door like a wild animal. In my room I jam a chair under the door handle and stand in the dark. This pain is something primal and uncontrollable. I can feel it prowling through my blood, clawing away any sense of security or love I've ever felt from Jasper. I can't breathe. My lungs are being squeezed by the sudden weight of my aloneness. I drop to my knees, ready to tear my skin off to find relief, and stiffen, immobilized at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Footsteps that slow on approach.

"Edward?"

I need to force myself not to throw up at the sound of that voice; that voice that I fucking love. That voice makes the pain growl under my skin and I have to tighten my arms around myself incase I split in two.

"E? Can we talk?"

I shake my head vehemently but he can't see. I stay silent. I can't speak to him, I can't. I can feel my insides threatening to splinter at the slightest pressure. I lower my forehead to the floor and stay there, focusing on keeping my lungs working. The door handle rattles and I cringe.

"E, please." The voice is pleading, laced with a pain too painful to listen to. I drag my broken body to the bed, pull down a pillow and hide beneath it, muffling any noise.

The next day I open the door cautiously and go see my dad.

"A deferment?" His eyes are wide with surprise but I am determined. "What does Jasper say?"

I fight the urge to yell that my whole life isn't dependent on Jasper. Mostly because I'm not sure that it would be a true statement. I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

"I haven't told him," I reply in a quiet voice, "I don't want to influence his choices. Just because I'm not ready for college yet doesn't mean he shouldn't be."

Dad nods understandingly and I call the admissions office. My deferment is approved.

**OoOoOoOo**

It's been a week and I've been studiously avoiding Jasper, rushing to school early to "finish last minute work", holing up in my room as soon the day is over and jamming a chair under my door handle every night. He's stopped trying to force me to talk to him. Instead he watches me with a cautious expression; the kind that you would wear when approaching a wounded animal, unsure if it will resort to flight or fight.

I couldn't get out of eating lunch in the cafeteria today, completely out of excuses, so when Jessica yells me over to the table I have no choice. I can feel Bella's eyes on me, and Alice's, but most of all I can feel Jasper's. I work to keep myself from sweating or running. I slide into the chair and Jessica immediately puts her hand on my arm.

"We were just talking about colleges," she gushes, leaning into me. I can see Bella's narrowed eyes in the corner of my vision. "When do you leave?"

I mumble and she tilts her head exaggeratedly in my direction, her pink-painted lips curved up in an over-enthusiastic smile. "Missed that Edward," she giggles. I'm pretty sure I hear Jasper hiss when she says my name and my body tenses involuntarily.

"I deferred for a year," I murmur a little louder, "Won't be going until next Fall."

"You what?" His voice is loud and he's leaning over the table toward me, his expression letting everyone know he's been completely blindsided. I avoid his eyes, feeling sick.

"What the fuck Edward?"

Alice has her hand on his chest, trying to get him to calm down, and Tyler is telling him to chill but he only has eyes for me and I can feel his entire being straining towards me. I feel trapped, my breathing quickly moving into panic attack territory but a cool hand on my arm snaps my head up.

Bella is looking at me, understanding shining in her brown eyes. She tilts her head to the door and tugs my hand gently.

"Want to go for a walk Edward?"

I allow her to pull me up and out of the cafeteria, across the parking lot and into the woods that surround the school. After a few minutes of walking she lets go of my fingers and sits on a rock, patting the place next to her when I hesitate.

"So," she says casually, "You love Jasper." It's not a question. I cringe. Her hand finds the back of my neck and her fingers rub the skin there softly. It takes a few minutes but the simple gesture helps me release the tension humming in my bones. I bow my head, leaning into her hand, letting her slide her fingers into my hair and rub my scalp.

"I'm sorry Edward." Her voice is low and even and I don't realise I'm crying until she pulls me to her, whispering gentle affection in my ear. The want and denial and hurt comes pouring out of me in a rush of sobbing and hot tears and all the while Bella simply holds me. I realise she's doing what Jasper should be and it makes me cry harder. When I'm done she drives me home.

We pull into my driveway and Bella lays a hand on mine as I turn to open the door. I turn back and her wistful expression makes my heart hurt.

"Edward, you're an incredible person," she breathes, "but sometimes, no matter how much you want it, love just isn't enough." She brushes her lips against my cheekbone and releases my hand. I want to apologise for the wrong I did her but I have a feeling it isn't what she's looking for.

**OoOoOoOo**

It's the night of graduation and I'm hiding in my room. This last week has been a lesson in just how many levels of pain the human experience carries. Jasper hasn't been home much but, when he has been, he's made his disapproval known through glares and slamming doors. Graduation itself was a fresh hell. I barely remember any of it, so intent was I on keeping myself upright. No matter how much I evaded him, I could feel Jasper's fury directed at me wherever I was in the auditorium. I could feel his eyes boring into me throughout the ceremony. I almost stumbled under the intensity of him when I collected my diploma.

Mama and Dad have gone on a three-day break on the East Coast. I told them I was having a party and they agreed to clear out – in reality I just didn't want their questions when I came home straight after graduation and holed up in my room like I've been doing the past two weeks.

I've been lying on my bed for a couple of hours, still wearing my shirt, tie and dress trousers, staring at the ceiling and forcing my brain not to think about Jasper and where he was and what he was doing with Alice at this very minute. My stomach turns at the thought and I force it away by playing Beethoven in my head. Everything is so fucked up and I hate it. I hate loving him and I hate that I have to hate loving him and I hate myself for being so pathetic I can't even be in the same room as him without feeling like I'm about to bend under the siren song of him.

I must have dozed off because a dull thump yanks me back to awareness. My neck hurts from the angle I've been sleeping at and my arm is dead from being curled under me. There's a scrape and I turn my head slightly to see a torso pulling itself in my window. I should be afraid, I know this, but all I can do is watch with a sort of detached interest as the figure pulls itself onto its feet and steps into the pool of moonlight spilling in my now-open window.

The sight of blonde curls make my heart race and my body, still drunk with sleep, lurches to the left, away from the window and toward the door. I can feel panic screaming up my spine.

"Wait, please."

That tone. That broken, pleading tone turns my bones to marble in my skin. I can't move away from him, not when he's imploring me to stay. I look at him for the first time in weeks and my heart stops at the sight. Still ethereally beautiful, the grief etched on his face lends it a quality that my sorrowful heart drags me toward. Before I know it I'm standing toe-to-toe with the person I've been avoiding.

"Jasper?" My voice is strangled as I reach for him, my fingers stilling a few centimetres from his skin. His distress is killing me. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

His eyes meet mine and I can't breathe. He lurches forward, his fingers digging into the flesh of my upper arms, his body collapsing against me. My arms encircle him automatically, holding him up. Without thinking, I'm stroking his hair and shushing him gently.

"Oh God, E," he sobs against me, clinging at my shirt, "Please, please don't leave me."

I'm frozen to the spot, unable to process what's happening.

"Jasper," I say, trying to untangle myself but he sobs louder and clings tighter, "Has something happened between you and Alice?"

He rears back, fury evident across his tear-streaked face. I try to pull away but he won't let go, his fingers tearing the fabric of my shirt. "Fuck Alice," he hisses, pitching forward into me.

His tongue is in my mouth and his hands are pulling at my clothes, a desperation I've never felt from him before crashing against my skin. I know I should push him away, I know I shouldn't let this happen, but my body is on fire for him. I've missed his touch in a way there isn't words for.

I go down easily under him, letting him pull and tug and yank at me. My shirt is off and his mouth is hot on my collarbone, his fingertips ghosting under my trousers as I moan against his neck.

"Touch me E," he whispers, his eyes finding mine in the dark. My chest is heaving and I'm staring at him, not sure. "Please," he begs me and I let go. We wrestle each other out of our clothes until we're naked except for our underwear.

I gasp as he stretches on top of me, expanse of warm skin against mine. My brain is in overload and I'm shaking with need and fear. I've wanted him so long, been denied so long…

"I want you to mark me, E," Jasper sits up on my thighs and I gaze up at his incredible features, my body aching for him but my mind confused. My face must give away my confusion because he stands up and walks to my desk, coming back with something I can't identify in the dim light. He offers it to me and I see it's a pen. I look back at him, still confused.

I watch, my heart racing, as he shimmies out of his boxers then climbs back onto the bed. I'm scared to look away from his face so I lock my eyes on his. He smiles down at me, his expression so tender tears spring to my eyes.

"E, I want you to mark me." He lowers his head and lets his tongue trace my lips. "Make me yours."

He rolls over, pulling me on top of him. His cock presses against mine and I let my head fall back as I try to control the urge to give into my body's desire to grind against him. His hand on my chest brings me back to him. He gently prises the pen from my hand and, uncapping it, leans up until we're chest to chest. He stares at me before moving close. I jerk as I feel the tip of the pen scratching softly across the skin under my collarbone. When he's done I look down and, after a minute, make out his name. He hands me the pen again.

Hesitantly I press him down on the mattress and let my eyes rake the breadth of skin on offer to me. Jasper looks up at me, complete trust on his face, and everything but my love for him melts away. I shiver at the gasp Jasper lets out when the tip of the pen touches the dip between his hipbone and his groin. Carefully I print an elegant calligraphic E on the spot I've chosen. This is the only time I've been grateful for the calligraphy class mama insisted I took. I admire my handiwork.

I smile at Jasper but start at the desire evident on his face. He bucks against me and the sensation goosebumps every inch of skin on my body. Then I'm on my back and his hands are pulling my boxers.

"Please," he whispers and I nod, lifting my hips to allow him to slide them off. The feel of him completely naked against me is too much to bear. I squeeze my eyes tightly closed but it doesn't stop the tears. I feel Jasper's tongue on my cheekbone, collecting the wetness like a treasure.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against my face, hips grinding slowly against me, "I'm so fucking sorry. Please don't leave me. I can't stand the thought of you leaving me E, I need you."

My heart sings at his words and my blood heats my skin at his movements. I can't think through the pleasure he's offering and I give in completely, clutching him to me as we move together. Our cocks brushing together, trapped between our bodies, makes my toes curl and my chest make noises I've never heard before. It feels like Jasper is purring against my neck.

"Fuck." His voice is rough against my skin and I shiver. "I love you."

I gasp, I can't help it, and he moves more insistently. The sensation is like nothing I've ever experienced and my legs wrap around him involuntarily, pressing our bodies closer together, making our movements firmer. Jasper is gasping against me, growling and moaning, and the lust and love that shudders down my spine makes me sob against his shoulder. Everything I've ever wanted is between my thighs, sliding so beautifully against me, and it's too much. Everything is too much. I try to shut down but he won't let me.

"Edward," he moans in my ear, fingers sliding into my hair, tugging in a way that makes me grind up on him harder, "Stay with me." His hands on me, his skin, his hot breath, all make my movements frantic. Jasper matches me, hand in my hair and against the base of my back, and we push and push and push until we explode together in a tangle of moans and colour and sensation.

I lie, completely still, as Jasper disentangles himself and fetches his shirt, cleaning us both gently. He gathers my exhausted limbs against him and pulls us under the duvet. I fall asleep in his arms, lured into unconsciousness by his gentle fingers in my hair and his sweet lips against my ear.

**OoOoOoOo**

I wake up, early and alone. I get up and make my way slowly through the house. Part of my brain is thinking _maybe he's making food _but the foreboding that tightens my stomach tells me different.

He doesn't come back until almost 3pm. He stops in the doorway and I turn to him slowly. He won't meet my eye and my entire body trembles despite my attempts to keep it under control. I can see his fingers worrying at his hipbone and I know he's thinking of the spot I claimed only hours before. Dread makes my limbs heavy. We don't speak.

The doorbell knocks us out of our silent war and I slip past him to open it. Alice Brandon is standing on my doorstep, smiling sunshine at me.

"Hey Edward," she trills, grinning her easy grin, "I'm here to pick up Jasper?"

I look past her, to her car, and even from here I can see bags in the back seat. I feel Jasper come up behind us but I'm too afraid to turn, too afraid of what I'll see. He shuffles uncomfortably.

"You ready to go sweetie?" Alice asks, eyes twinkling at him over my shoulder.

"Uh, yeah, one minute." His voice is low, strained and I watch Alice retreat to her car. I can't turn round. I won't.

"So, uh, Alice wants to road trip before college." I can't see him but I know he's rubbing the back of his neck and not looking at me. "Up the West Coast some. She asked me to go and I thought it'd be a good way to spend the summer."

I say nothing because what is there to say? He moves past me and I cringe away from his body. The sight of a duffle bag in his hands inexplicably makes me want to cry. He stops on the doorstep and half turns to me. His profile might be the most poignantly beautiful thing I'll ever know. I close the door before he speaks.

He's leaving me.

Again.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading, I really appreciate it. If you feel like leaving me your thoughts, I'd appreciate that too *hint hint*.<strong>

**I couldn't finish this story the way I wanted because of entry length restrictions so there'll probably be another chapter posted after the LoveLikeFire contest has finished. Keep an eye out if you want to know what happens to the boys.**

**The title of this story is a lyric from my song prompt (The Cave by Mumford and Sons) partly because it was perfect and partly because I suck at titles.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, first apologies for the wait. You can thank PortiaKhalo and Forever17Lisa for tweeting all over my ass until I got my finger out and finished this chapter.**

**Big love, cakes, cookies and all the love in the 'Verse to my hardcore amazing, patient and generally bitching beta, PortiaKhalo. Love you lady - and whatever you say, you make me a better writer. Every time.**

**Just a warning - this chapter went to a pretty dark place rather unexpectedly. If you're offended by ... well, anything then I really ask that you don't read this. Especially graphic sex, boy sex in any form and well let's just say dark themes and leave it there shall we? This was damn hard to write so, if you're so inclined, I'd love to hear your thoughts.**

**Ps, one of the lines of dialogue in this chapter is actually a line from one of my favourite songs. Name that song and you get a teaser from the third (and final) chapter.**

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><p>It's been two months and Jasper hasn't called. It's a different kind of ache that settles in the pit of my stomach every day I wake up. It's the ache of knowing I experienced one perfect moment and everything in my life looks dimmer for it.<p>

I get up, I get dressed, I try not to think about him. I eat, I watch tv, I try not to think about him. I shower, sometimes I go out, I try not to think about him. Except all I fucking do is think about him.

His skin under my mouth, his hands in my hair, his body against mine and nothing feels as good as the memory of that night.

That I try not to think about.

Except it's all I think about.

The first few days after he left I was practically catatonic. I moved into the guest room, unable to take the saturation of him in my personal space. Unable to even cross the threshold. Everywhere I looked, he wasn't there and the fresh pain that knowledge heaped on my already bleeding wounds was too much for my body to bear. So I checked out.

The next few weeks weren't a great improvement except I learned to get out of bed more and hide my devastation better. I still didn't really speak to anyone or leave the house but I did leave bed and that was progress at least. I lost weight. And time.

Now two months have passed and I feel like I'm sort of floating in my body. My brain is still doing all the things I should be doing, sometimes it even manages to hold a semi-decent conversation with one of my parents, but mostly I'm holed up in my head watching everything go on around me and aching for the one thing that isn't.

Mama sits next to me on the couch, smooshed up against my side, and strokes my hair. I know she knows that something is wrong. I know she knows that I'm broken. I know she knows that I don't want to talk about it.

"What happened with you and Jasper?"

His name, said so casually, makes a jolt of agony twist my bones and I gasp before I can seal my lips to hold the sound in. Mama's fingers still in my hair and I remain rigid, determined not to lose it. When I'm sure I can open my mouth without the blackness in my heart spewing out, I answer.

"What makes you think anything's wrong?" The casual set of my voice jangles wrong chords between us.

"You don't sleep," she states softly, "You don't go out. You sleep in the guest bedroom. I haven't seen you smile in weeks and you've taken to swearing like a trooper."

The last one makes me laugh, a short barking noise that sounds unnatural in its unfamiliarity. It was a mistake however to allow even that burst of emotion because everything I've been suppressing is now welling up through the cracks that laugh has make in my veneer and I'm sobbing on my mama's knee, clutching her sweater, the heart-breaking, bone-crushing grief that lives in my blood just seeping out of me.

She's shushing me and stroking my hair, whispering comfort and love and I need this but I need him more and how could he have just left me like I mean nothing? I have to mean something, right?

When I'm finally cried out, mama leads me to the bathroom and covers my puffy skin with a damp washcloth, the cold a sweet relief on my salt-burned skin. She sits next to me on the edge of the bathtub, hand rubbing soft circles on my back.

"Baby, sometimes life doesn't work out the way it should. Sometimes there is pain where there should only be happiness. Sometimes people fuck up."

My head pops up, surprised. I've never heard mama swear before. She smiles and playfully swats my arm. "I am a grown-up Edward," she play-mocks before her expression returns to serious.

"Edward, you can't give up on your life because someone doesn't meet your expectations." She raises a hand to silence me when I open my mouth to speak. "I've watched you zombie through the past two months and I've allowed it because I hoped that you'd bring yourself out of it. Enough is enough now." Her tone is gentle but her eyes are firm. "It's time to get out and start living again. The world hasn't ended," she kisses my forehead, "even if it feels like it has."

She leaves me in the bathroom and I'm examining my puffy, swollen face when I decide that mama's right. It is time to start living again. It's become clear that I'm always going to be carrying this hole with me so I'm just going to have to learn how to live around it. I know there's a gay bar in Port Angeles and I stand, squaring my shoulders at myself in the mirror, resolutely planning to check it out tonight.

**0o0o0o0o**

It's Christmas eve but the guest bedroom is warm and the bed is even warmer and I'm so reluctant to get up. I didn't get home until gone five this morning so I've slept pretty late. My body is still deliciously achy from the previous evening's activities and I let myself enjoy the sensation a few minutes before dragging myself up and heading downstairs before mama comes yelling at me to help bake cookies or mash cranberries or whatever cooking job she decides _must_ be done by my hand.

I completely freeze in the kitchen doorway because Jasper is leaning against the counter, mixing bowl full of cookie dough on his hip, all bare feet and low-slung jeans, laughing along with mama at whatever joke dad just made.

His eyes flick up to me and I'm staring and he's staring and this ache that I've pushed down all these months is screaming that _he's there, he's right fucking there! _and it takes every single muscle in my body to lock my feet in place.

"Edward, you're up!" Mama breezes over and drops a kiss on my cheekbone, "Jasper got in this morning. Isn't this great? My family all under the same roof again!" She pulls me into her side, reaching for Jasper to pull him to her other side, her arms wrapping around us both, her sighing happiness zinging the air between us and all I can see are his eyes and his lips and his cheekbones, so close and not nearly close enough. Not nearly.

"E." His voice is strong but there's a current of hesitance that makes me pull away from mama, away from Jasper's false proximity, away from the picture perfect scene and retreat to the furthest edge of the kitchen. Mama is shooting small, picking glances between us but mercifully dad is questioning Jasper about college.

"It's just fine sir," he replies, easy smile, relaxed posture, "It's hard work but I'm enjoying it."

_Lies._

He isn't at college. I know this because I'm the one who took the phone call from the admissions office a few days after start of term, enquiring as to whether Jasper Whitlock was still intending on taking up his allocated place. I told them no because if he hadn't turned up that first day, he wasn't going to. I didn't tell my parents though.

The rest of the afternoon passes in barbed silence and loaded looks that I can't even allow myself to notice. I am a jangled tangle of nerves and neurosis, the desire for what I can't have warping me into something hard and unpretty.

"E!" He calls me when I'm escaping to the sanctuary of the guestroom and my traitor feet pause on the stairs, my shoulders turning to him against my will. He's standing at the bottom, his face a perfect rendering of unsure, and I take one long look, rememorizing the faultless lines and angles of him before I start walking again because what's the point of talking when there's nothing to say?

**0o0o0o0o**

It's Christmas Day and I don't think I've ever eaten a more awkward meal than the one I'm eating right now. Mama is trying to cover the atmosphere by being the most vivacious she has ever been and dad is looking between me and Jasper with a contemplative look that's making the backs of my knees sweaty. I'm just concentrating on one forkful at a time finding my mouth and trying to pretend Jasper's skin isn't three foot to my right, easily within reach, making my fingertips throb with desire. But I won't touch him. I won't.

"Your mama and I have an announcement." Dad is using his serious tone and years of conditioning has my eyes finding his, then mama's, trying to figure out if I'm in trouble or not. After a minute I remember I'm not ten anymore and I start to worry, my shoulders tensing.

"It's nothing bad," dad quickly amends, seeing my reaction, "well, I don't think it's bad."

I'm still waiting, fork abandoned midair, for the news. My entire body seizes when Jasper's hand makes contact with my wrist, gently guiding arm, and fork, back to the table. His fingertips linger on me a moment and both my parents are staring at the spot where our skin is overlapping and I'm staring at nothing, jaw clenched so tight, until he withdraws.

"Relax E," he chuckles but I can hear the hint of what he's actually saying, taste the flavour of _something_ in his tone...pleading? Dad clears his throat again and my eyes find his face.

"I signed up for this early in the year, back when your mama and I thought both you boys would be in college by now, and I considered pulling out but your mama and I discussed it at length and we both agreed that you're grown men now and you don't need us around to supervise you twenty-four-seven." I'm wondering if he's ever going to elaborate on what 'this' is when he continues. "I received my first assignment with the Doctors Without Borders project. Your mama and I fly out January third."

It's dead silent in the room and I can feel mama's concern reaching out to me. Truth? The thought of being alone in Forks is too scary to dwell on right now so I push it down and concentrate on my incredible dad, who is going to fulfil a lifelong dream.

"Dad, that's amazing!" I smile the first genuine smile to grace my lips in months and it feels odd on my face but the effect on my parents makes it totally worth it. Mama starts to breathe again and dad grins back at me before launching into an excited monologue on the exactly what the assignment entails and I nod along, smiling and asking questions.

Jasper catches me in the kitchen just before dessert. I turn around and he's just there, filling all the space in my life, and I have to bend forward, hands on my knees for a minute to get myself back on lockdown. I've craved his eyes on my skin so fucking long.

"How are you really feeling E?"

Again with the subtext. I'm not playing this game, I'm tired of getting burned, so I just shrug and move around him to rejoin my parents at the table. Jasper doesn't move to stop me but his expression is...sad.

**0o0o0o0o**

"Are you going along Jasper?" Mama smiles over at him but I can tell she's meddling. He can too.

"I'm sure he's busy mama," I start but Jasper stands and stretches, cutting off my words with a flash of tanned stomach and a bright smile.

"Yeah, I think I will." He full-on grins at me but there's something harsh behind it that makes me sweat. "They _are_ old school buddies after all."

Mama smiles like she's done me a favour and disappears into the living room, calling over her shoulder that we should make sure and behave and I'm left standing in the hallway avoiding looking at Jasper, who is staring at me.

"Well let's go," I mumble, opening the door and stumbling into the night, acutely aware of his footsteps following me. Footsteps I know so well. I'm starting to panic when I feel his fingertips light on my shoulder blade and instantly relax.

That's the thing about this. Right through this whole fucked up mess, through everything he's done and said he's still my best friend. Until the end. He can still read me like a book, can still tell when I'm on the edge and can still bring me back with a simple touch. I hate it but fuck I love him for it.

His hand leaves me and we get into the car. The dim interior feels like it's suffocating with tension and unsaid words. I force every inch of concentration I have onto the road but he's staring at me, openly and unashamed, and I can feel the wetness pooling at the base of my spine from the stress of denying him.

He clears his throat and my eyes automatically find him and shit we're caught in a silent conversation that I don't want to have. His eyes, dark on mine, _Why are you ignoring me? _My eyes roll, a flash of hurt that I can't suppress, _Why the hell do you think? _His expression is stoic but he leans forward, _Don't do this. _I take a deep breath, my lungs constricted, _I didn't; you did. _I stare out the windscreen but his eyes won't leave me, waiting, and I send him a sidelong glance, jaw flexing, _Why are you coming anyway?_ He rolls his shoulder in a half shrug, _They're old friends_. I huff angrily, _You're a fucking liar_. He stares again, eyes heavy on me, _You're why; you're always why_. I hiss, a sharp, harsh sound in the silent car, and turn my body away from him, angry that I'm left tender again and wanting, always fucking wanting. He drops his eyes from me after a moment, shoulders slumping down, staring out of the window and into the dark. I'm shaking. I hate this.

Emmett answers the door, grinning widely at me like always. The weirdest thing about leaving school is my unexpected friendship with Emmett. Bella made him promise to keep an eye on me and turns out he's a pretty cool guy. Sometimes I hang out with him and his mechanic buddies at the bar by his work but mostly he comes to mine and we order dinner and watch films. He's real easy to be around.

"Eddie!" He yells, picking me up in a bear hug. I cringe at the unwanted nickname and again at the bone-crushing pressure of his arms on my ribcage. I sense the tension from behind me at the same time Emmett does. He puts me down, craning over my shoulder to see who's out there and his eyebrows nearly shoot straight off his forehead.

"Jas man, how're you doing?" He steps forward, clasping Jasper's shoulder, shooting me a questioning glance which I ignore in the same way I'm ignoring Jasper's very fucking clear displeasure. "Didn't know you were back."

"Just for the holiday," Jasper replies coolley, staring past Emmett's head. I mumble something nonsensical and push into the house, feeling shitty for not bailing Emmett out but too exhausted to actually do anything about it.

Jessica is hugging me and Eric is all smiles and fist-bumps. Jessica's an odd one – a total fake bitch at school but the minute she got out from under Mike and started dating Eric, sweetest girl you'll ever meet. She's asking me what I'm doing with my year out and Eric's talking to me about some sport that I have no interest in and Emmett's joining in but he's watching me carefully and Jasper...Jasper is staring.

The rest of the night I feel like I'm underwater. Jasper is polite when asked a question but makes no effort to integrate himself into the conversation. He's constantly to my right, matching me move for move so that he's always in my line of vision, drinking beer from a bottle and watching me. He's making me jittery. I'm unable to keep up with the simplest conversation, stumbling over my words, burning up under his relentless eyes.

When I manage to zone in again, Jessica is talking about perfume and aftershave and shoving her wrist under my nose, insisting that I take a sniff.

"Isn't it lovely?" She smiles at me whilst making eyes at Eric, "It's the reason Eric noticed me that first time, isn't it?" She turns to him and he nods. Jasper snorts into his beer and we ignore him.

"It's a great smell," Eric is enthusiastic and Emmett starts talking about some perfume Rosalie wears that drives him wild but Jasper's voice cuts across them all.

"Perfume doesn't attract someone to you." His voice is flat. "Your body odour does."

Jessica wrinkles her nose. "That's not very romantic is it?" she giggles.

"You're attracted to someone by their smell," Jasper repeats firmly, talking to the room but his eyes are fixed on mine, "Not that shit you buy in bottles and cans but their personal scent. And when it hits your nose? It's like it explodes in your brain and makes you vibrate with recognition right down to your DNA. You identify them as your match in every way that matters, not stupid 'oh we read the same books' but in an 'oh, our very make-up has been created a perfect compliment. Chemistry might not be sexy but that's pretty fucking romantic," Jasper shrugs, eyes sliding away from my face finally, "if you want to look at it that way."

Jessica's staring at Jasper and Eric's staring at Jessica and Emmett's staring at me and I can't take it anymore so get up and walk to the front door. Emmett's front drive is dark and smells like wild mint. The cold air is helping me as I fight to get my damn body back under my control and it's almost working. Right up until it isn't because he's standing right behind me. His hands are on my shoulders and I close my eyes because there isn't anything in the world that will adequately describe the sweet ache that's working its way up my body at his proximity. I want to lean back into him, I want it more than I want air, but that still-bloody part of my heart won't let me. Because it's smart and it remembers the last time I allowed myself to give in to him. Because it wants to protect the tattered strips it still has left. Because it still aches for the absence of him every single damn day.

"E?" His voice is a salve against my neck and I half-sob at his fingers in my hair like they belong there. They so fucking do. He's turning me and I'm resisting but, honestly, not very hard because I want him so bad. Since the second I saw him in the kitchen with mama a few days ago, I've wanted him. That hasn't changed. His breath is on my lips and now his lips are on my lips.

When I was very young mama once told me that people who really loved each other exchange their souls when they kissed. That is exactly what this is. His tongue is in my mouth and his taste but it's more than that. I can feel the thing that is essentially him caressing the soft inner part of me as it slip-slides into the perfect space my soul has made for it. I can feel a part of what is me breaking off, slide-slipping on my breath, to be sucked down by his. I'm pulling away, trying to stop it from happening but it's too late.

Jasper is staring at me, wide-eye'd, three fingertips pressed against his bottom lip. He feels it too and that scares me more than anything else because if he didn't lie all those months ago, if he loved me but left anyway, what does that say about me? About him?

He must see something in my face and half-steps forward but I'm staggering backward, fearful and desperate for an escape. I don't want this. I can't. I'm in the car and gone before anyone can stop me.

**0o0o0o0o**

Today I can't even be in the same room as Jasper - not after last night. I have no idea how he got home, I'm assuming Emmett, but I've been hiding in the guest room, ignoring my phone and all signs of life from the house all day. It's early evening now and I've waited until I know they'll be eating dinner to make my ninja move to the front door. I'm in the car and on the road.

I decide to head to the bar in Port Angeles because I need to be around people who aren't Jasper. It doesn't take long before I'm sitting on a stool in front of the Heineken pump – my favourite spot because the mirror gives you advance warning of who is coming up behind you. Victoria clued me onto this spot my first night here.

_I stumbled in, fresh-faced and stupid, and was immediately accosted by about four guys. Now I know I'm an alright looking boy but the level of attention I was getting just completely threw me._

"_You're new." Victoria had smiled at me kindly, put a bottle of water down in front of me and glared at the two guys beside me who were giving me their best fuck-me eyes. "Back off now boys and let him be." _

_To my immense surprise they'd done as told. Turns out Victoria owned the bar and, in her words, knew "every twink, bear, macho, queen and everything in between to grace my door" and I was apparently 'fresh meat'._

"_Honey," she'd grinned at me, "Any newbie in here will get a fair bit of attention, the gay roster isn't exactly high in Port Angeles, but you," and she'd looked me up and down, "well you're fresh and so fuckable, they'll be on you like white on rice."_

_I must've looked completely out of my depth, which I was, because she touched my hand gently and waved over the guy on the door. He sauntered to us, all hot and dangerous, and leaned on the bar, eyeing me with interest._

"_This is my husband James." Victoria had turned to him and the love in her face had made my chest tighten. "And this is..."_

"_Edward," I supplied automatically, reaching out a hand. James looked at me, amusement curling his mouth, before grasping my hand and shaking it firmly._

"_New, polite _and_ pretty," he commented to Victoria, eyes still on me, and I blushed like a little girl. Victoria had laughed and slapped his arm playfully._

"_Be nice." She smiled at me again. "He's clearly just out and I don't want to see him devoured by the sharks before he has a chance. Keep an eye on him." _

_James had nodded his assent, patted me on the shoulder, and retreated to his post by the door but after that night they both looked out for me. I really owed them because, without it, I'm not sure what would've happened._

_As it was, I found I didn't mind getting handjobs from some of the pretty twinks but I didn't go further than that. _

_At least, not until I met Sam._

_Shit, the first night Sam walked in to the bar I swear I nearly swallowed my tongue. I'd seen a bit of everything in there, Victoria helpfully pointing out who was what, but I hadn't ever seen anything like him._

_For a start he was huge. He towered over me and at 6'2" that isn't an easy feat. He was clearly Native, a wall of solid muscle wrapped in skin the colour of mocha and sin. He was the first person to completely ignore me since I'd started coming to the bar and I'd be lying if I said it didn't immediately catch my attention._

_He sat down next to me for two hours without a single look or word. Victoria was eyeing me speculatively but I had no idea what that meant. When he got up to leave I waited until he walked out the door and followed. He was half way up the street when I got outside and I stopped, unsure of what I was doing._

"_Are you coming?" His voice was rich and clear as he tilted his head to glance at me over his shoulder. He didn't need to ask me twice_.

_Sam was sure of everything and I was floundering. He gave me what I needed and nothing felt better than the sting of his discipline on my skin; he was the punishment I was too weak to provide for myself._

"You alright there honey?" Victoria is looking at me, wearing concern in her eyes. I try to smile and nod but I know there's no way I'm pulling that shit off tonight.

"I'm good Tor," I sigh, "Just a rough couple of days."

She puts a beer in front of me and I shake my head, pulling out my keys to indicate I'm driving. She plucks them out of my hand and sets them under the bar.

"If ever I've seen someone in need of a drink, it's you," she explains, "I'll get James to drop it off outside Forks library after we close up here. And you, if you don't get lucky." I try to protest, knowing they live down the street from this bar and that Victoria will have to follow him and bring him back but she waves away my concern.

"Gives me an excuse to take the bike for a spin." She wiggles her eyebrows as James leans on the bar next to me. He grins and gives her a quick kiss.

"Red hair and black leather, my favourite colour scheme," he faux-whispers to me with a wink. I blush because I know he's straight but James is a total flirt and so very hot. I nod and give in, drinking my beer. Truth? It tastes great.

An hour later Sam walks in and sits next to me and fuck if he isn't exactly what I didn't realise I was waiting for. Sam gives me what I need to stay in control of what my life has become and tonight I really need that.

We sit, side by side, drinking in silence for about an hour before Sam stands up and, with a nod to Victoria, heads for the door. I remain at the bar a few minutes and then discreetly follow in his wake.

As soon as I hit fresh air, I _know_ he's here. I fight it hard but my head whips up unbidden and my eyes automatically find Jasper, leaning so casually against a shop front across the street, like he's my fucking magnetic north.

Which he is.

Although it's impossible given the distance and the lack of light, I swear I can see his eyes as clear as if he were standing right in front of me. I have to break this cycle. I can't allow him to have this power over me. It's not normal.

For the first time in my life I turn from him, hurrying my steps until I'm close enough to Sam to reach out and catch his fingers with mine. He jumps and turns to stare at me, I've broken our protocol, but I avoid his assessing gaze and move closer to his side, entwining our hands. To my intense gratitude he complies with my gross breach of our etiquette and allows me to tuck myself into him. I can feel Jasper's weight on my back and it makes me feel small and stupid and raw and afraid. And lonely. So fucking lonely. I squeeze closer to Sam and feel an absurd swell of gratefulness when he slings his forearm around my shoulders.

Once we turn onto the next street I no longer feel so in need of reassurance but I can't quite extract myself from Sam without coming across like a dick, or having to answer questions I don't want to answer, so I remain pinned under the heavy weight of his arm. It's awkward. For both of us. His usually relaxed body is a tense expanse of muscle against my side and I have to work hard on not freaking out right now.

I'm so relieved when he lets go of me to open the door to his apartment building that I spontaneously turn into him and press my lips against his. His mouth is rough and soft as always but his dark eyes remain open, staring down at me impassively. Apparently I'm hell bent on pissing on every single rule we've established together these past few months. I pull back and go for a smile. I can tell I haven't pulled it off when he frowns in response.

The walk to his front door is...edgy. I've managed to fuck up everything and it's all fucking Jasper's fault. Fucking Jasper and his perfect face and his perfect mouth and his perfect soul and his perfect fucking distance and my entire body is twisting in panic and I can't breathe. I need...something. I just fucking _need_.

I shove Sam through his front door, earning a confused grunt, and throw myself on him. Fuck etiquette. This isn't how we do things but Sam doesn't fight me, just lets me tear his clothes and claw his skin and bite his muscle and pull his hair and fucking want want want all fucking over him.

I can't get close enough, I physically can't, and my frustration is making me rougher than I've ever been with anyone before. I can hear the whine lacing my groans and it has an on-the-edge quality that scares the hell out of me.

Sam surprises me by manoeuvring me through a door and into his bedroom. I stop, momentarily shocked into stillness, and his stance takes on a defensive quality. We've never done...this in his bedroom before. Couch, shower, kitchen table, window-sill sure, but never have we been here, in Sam's intimate space. I look around the dimly lit room for a second before my panic makes itself abundantly clear once again and I'm on him, shoving him back onto the bed, climbing on him, fucking determined to own something other than this constant ache in my chest for someone who isn't. fucking. there.

Sam is naked and I'm naked and oh fuck it feels good to have hot skin pressed against mine. I close my eyes and press down onto him, kissing and clinging and so ready to feel something with someone who actually wants to be doing _this_ with _me_. His groans are deep in my ear, his cock hard against mine, my tongue on his throat, and his arm disappears over the side of the bed and comes back clutching lube and condoms. Which he hands to me.

For the second time I'm totally blind-sided because this isn't how it goes. Sam fucks me. That's how it is. Except tonight it isn't. Because tonight I have to own him and he knows it. I snatch them out of his hands, growling in his ear, earning myself a whimper, and lube up my fingers. He's so fucking tight as I sink my finger into him, stretching and prodding, making him writhe and gasp when I hit that sweet spot of his.

"Flip the fuck over."

The dark quality of my voice surprises me but I'm too far gone to dwell on it right now. Sam does exactly as asked and I take a moment to admire the muscular line of his back as he arches beneath me. I steady myself on the smooth dip just above his ass, my fingers tattooing a gentle rhythm on the skin there, as I line up and start the slow slide inside.

Sam growls and drops his shoulders, hands fisting the duvet, muscles rippling. He doesn't bottom. I know this. Somehow I know this is significant but my brain checked out outside the pub and I'm running on primal so there are no connections to be made here except how unbelievably tight Sam feels around me. I have to stop halfway in, panting, to let the sensation of his hot flesh wash over me. It's just everything right now. Everything.

Sam's impatient grunt brings me back and I continue the slow slick slide until my thighs are pressed into his, my torso flush against his back, my mouth on his neck. I can tell by the flexing tendons under my lips that he's uncomfortable so I reach under him and stroke his erection, eliciting an approving moan. Once I know he's relaxed, I start moving against him.

_Pull out, press in. _

_Pull out, press in. _

_Forget everything, except this. _

_Forget everything, except this._

And it's so utterly perfect. His skin and my skin, his moans and my moans, his thrusts and my thrusts. Everything is perfect and in tandem and exactly how I need it to be. I slow my hips, wanting this exquisite moment to last. I want to live here forever, with nothing on my mind except my pleasure and Sam's pleasure and how fucking beautiful this is when you just let it be.

I come so hard I collapse, driving Sam down onto the mattress, thrusting into him vigorously until I finally stop spasming and can breathe again. It's only the slow registering of wetness on the hand trapped between Sam's cock and the bed that lets me know he reached his high too. I want to feel like a selfish prick but I'm empty. Of everything.

I roll off him, panting and absurdly close to tears. My ache is back but now it's a chasm in my chest, a gaping hole where everything I want isn't and no amount of having it with someone else will bridge that. I sit up, automatically reaching for my boxers, wanting to escape this fuck up of an evening.

"Going somewhere?"

Sam's voice is cool, as are his eyes which are fixed on my face. I look back at him, wide-eye'd and dumb. He laughs harshly and yanks me back onto the bed, squeezing my wrists, thighs pressing mine together. His face is inches from me and I know this expression. This is the Sam I know, the Sam I usually need. I struggle against him a little, the atmosphere between us somehow different than the other times we've played this game.

"Sam..." I start to protest but his mouth is on mine, his tongue pushing inside, twisting in time with his hands on me. He shoves my arms up and I hear the snap before I register the metal. He's using cuffs on me. I pull back, testing, but they don't give an inch. We've always used scarves for this part and when my eyes find his I'm startled at what I see in his expression. Anger, want, cruelty, hurt.

"Sam." I struggle harder but his lips find mine again and he swallows every protest as it leaves my tongue, twisting my hair, shoving me into the mattress. His hand on my cock is tight, painful, punishing. Within minutes I'm almost in tears because it hurts, because it feels good, because it feels like what I deserve.

For the next hour I take all the castigation Sam heaps on me. He uses his hands, his teeth, the toys we've experimented with and the toys that scare me. My skin aches in stripes and lines and my muscles burn and my wrists are raw. My body bends under his discipline.

"Fucking beg me Edward," he growls in my ear, yanking my hair in his fist, "I want you to fucking beg me."

"Please." My voice is broken, wanton, not mine but mine. "Sam, please."

He nods and his fingers are in me, twisting and stretching and not gentle at all. I gasp at the intrusion, at the burn, at the rightness of it in all the wrongness. I try to turn but Sam's hand on my shoulder stops me. I struggle against his hold but he's firm, his face determined. He uses his knees to spread mine and I panic because he does me on my knees, not facing him, not where I can see his eyes, not like this.

"You're gonna look at me Edward," he snarls, forcing me flat with his body and he lines up with my entrance, "you fucking owe me this," his voice breaking.

And he's inside me, on top of me, against me, all over me. It's not something I'm mentally prepared for and this evening has turned into one giant headfuck.

"Wrap your legs around me Edward." Sam's voice is commanding and I do exactly as he says instinctively. As soon as I do, Sam's hands are on my shoulders, his face level with mine, his breath on my lips. His eyes are boring into mine and my brain is screaming at me to look away but I can't break his stare. I yank against my restraints and his hands leave my shoulders to encircle my wrists, hold them still, arms pressed the length of mine.

"I'm fucking you Edward," he grunts in time to his thrusts and I arch beneath him, "not anyone else. Me."

His pace is harsh, his force brutal, and he keeps full skin contact as he pushes himself into my body. His eyes are so dark and his expression is so raw. His fingers find my shoulders and dig into my flesh as his forehead presses against mine and he drives into me over and over and over.

A string of "fuck...fuck...fuck..." lets me know he's close, his arm around my back, angling my hips up so he hits my sweet spot, making me mewl and race towards my own release. Hand on my hip, bruisingly tight, his mouth brushing mine, whispering my own name against my lips every time he plunges inside.

"Look at me Edward...fucking ... look at me."

I'm staring into his eyes as he comes inside me and it's so fucking intimate it makes me want to check out but I can't because my body is electric and it takes one more brush of his stomach along the length of my cock before I'm howling and coming and arching and aching and twisting for him. It's so fucking intense I have a fleeting moment of worry that I might never recover from it. But I do. Of course I do.

I can't meet Sam's eyes as he releases me but I can feel his eyes on me. He shadows me, naked and expressionless, as I make my way off the bed and around the apartment to collect my discarded clothing, wincing as I pull each item on. My body hurts and I already know I'm covered in bruises. Finally I'm dressed and at his front door, feeling awkward and stupid. I still can't look at him.

As I turn the handle, he grabs me and presses our mouths together, his tongue tangling with mine, the kiss full of need and hurt and want and ache and things I can't give him. Once again I've managed to miss the fucking obvious and done damage where I had no right to. Sam pulls back, yanks the door open and shoves me out.

"I already know this is it Edward," he snaps but his eyes betray him and I feel like shit, "so don't bother." And he slams the door in my face.

It's 4am but I already know I'm walking home and that there isn't a walk in the world that will help with the amount of self-loathing I'm carrying with me.

By the time I get home it's gone 6am. I try to be as quiet as I can be but the walk home has only intensified my aching body and now I'm wincing with every step. I close the door behind me and let my body lean back into it, just for a moment.

"Where have you been?"

Jasper's voice makes my entire body jerk forward and I hiss as muscles protest the sudden movement and skin screams as it rubs against clothing. His hands are on me in an instant and he has my shirt lifted before I can swat him away. I try to twist out of his grip but his hand tightens on my shoulder and my traitorous body stills instantly. I tense as his free hand ghosts the tender flesh covering my ribcage, his eyes trained on the marks Sam left there.

"Edward." His voice is calm and that scares me the most. "Why are there bruises on you?"

I'm struck mute by the malevolence swirling in his features. I don't have the words to talk him down from this. This is beyond anger. I'm afraid to tell him Sam put them there, afraid for Sam, but most of all I'm afraid to tell him that I wanted it. That I've allowed this many times before. So I stay cowardly quiet, turning in on myself.

Jasper's hands are on my shirt buttons and I try to push him away as he opens them but he gives me this look that freezes my insides and I'm immediately motionless, some self-preservation instinct kicking in. When he's satisfied I'm not going to move, he continues. His low growl as he pushes the shirt from my shoulders makes me cringe because I know what he's seeing.

Sam's teethmarks on my shoulder.

The memory of seeing the teethmarks that mar his skin for the first time makes me cringe. His eyes are hard and his breathing is laboured. I know he's fighting whatever demon is rearing up inside of him and I know he's doing it so as not to scare me. Once again I'm struck with the urge to cry but I fight it, keeping my face angled carefully away from his. After an impossibly long time, he speaks.

"Edward." His jaw is clenched so tight I'm afraid he might break his teeth. "Who did this to you?"

I shake my head, refusing to speak. He thinks I'm afraid and I am. Of what Jasper will do if I tell him about Sam. Of how Jasper will look at me if I tell him Sam does this to me because I think I deserve it, because I think I need it. So I don't say anything at all. It's less frightening.

"Edward," Jasper's voice cracks and I'm in his arms. Fuck, his arms. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to pretend that this isn't exactly what I've been trying to replace with these bruises on my skin. He pulls me closer, his arm tight around my back, his hand hot against my neck. He's breathing into my hair, hard and uneven, clutching me to him and it's so nearly everything I need that I can barely contain the swell of emotions that threaten to burst me wide open for him.

"Edward, I swear to God, I will kill the motherfucker who put his hands on you, I swear." Jasper's words manage to ground me and I'm wriggling out of his arms. He staggers back and I feel bereft. His face is uncomprehending and so fucking beautiful.

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me Jasper," I spit, "Especially when there aren't any to fight."

I say nothing else, turning from him for the second time tonight, and head to the guest room. It's slow going and I feel his eyes on me the entire time and I feel raw in a completely new way but I refuse to acknowledge it because I've done enough damage for one night and I just can't handle any more.

As soon as I lock the bedroom door I fall to pieces. I sob for the stupid, reckless way I've treated Sam, like everything was a big fucking game. I sob for my attempt to excise my own sick sense of self-loathing, the evidence of which is painted in welts and discolorations all over my body. I sob for Jasper's pain at being unable to protect me but mostly I sob because he doesn't realise that the only protection I need is protection from him and that's something he can't give me.

I spend the next day in bed, claiming I drunkenly fell down the stairs at the pub when mama comes to find out why I'm hiding in bed over the Christmas holidays. She's horrified by my injuries, calling dad in to examine me. Eventually I manage to convince them that all I need is sleep and then, when they're gone, I convince myself, managing to spend most of the next 24 hours blissfully unconscious.

**0o0o0o0o**

It's late afternoon the following day before I manage to drag my stiff body to the shower, allowing the hot stream of water to ease the tension there. My parents are in the kitchen when I make it downstairs, mama looking worriedly at me. I give her as big a smile as I dare.

"Jasper's still asleep," she supplies as if I'd asked the question, "He didn't get in until early this morning."

I remain silent on the subject. Mama knows there's something going on between me and Jasper but she also knows I won't talk about it if I don't want to and I have absolutely no intention of talking about it. _Ever_.

I spend an hour or two with them, watching tv some and eating cookies mama made this morning. As time wears on however I'm getting antsy and I know it's because I'm anticipating Jasper's imminent presence. I know I can't face him right now so, through the bemused protests of my parents, I throw on a pair of shoes and a jacket and high-tail it out the door.

I drive around aimlessly for a couple of hours, the music up as high as it goes, trying to forget my fucked up life and my fucked up heart. I'm in Port Angeles before I register it and I figure a coffee at the pub will kill some more time before I have to bite the bullet and head back to Forks.

Victoria waves me over to the bar the second I step through the door so I head towards her, confused by her serious, sympathetic expression. I slide into a stool and smile over the bar at her but all she does is reach out and place her hand on my arm.

"What's up Tor?" I'm puzzled at the apology in her eyes and the twist of concern in her features. Something starts twisting my stomach in response and suddenly I know what's coming before she says it.

"It's Sam." Her voice is sweet and gentle and I curse my own fucking naivety that I ever really believed that everyone in here didn't know Sam and I were fucking. I look up at her and try to keep my face as stoic as possible but the dread is making my skin feel too small for my bones.

"He was beat up pretty bad last night, after he left here." Her hand is now stroking my arm lightly, comfortingly. "The police are treating it as gay bashing. He's up at the hospital. I just thought you'd want to know." I nod and stumble away, out into the early evening, ignoring her calling after me. I stand by my car, hand on the door. I should go to the hospital, I should go to Sam, but how can I? How can I tell him that he's in a hospital bed because I was too much of a fucking coward to tell the truth about what we did together? I can feel the weight of the truth I didn't speak strangling me where I stand. How can I tell him that I was afraid of Jasper's judgement so, despite knowing what would happen, I kept quiet? I can't tell him that. So, instead of going to the hospital like I should, I drive home to Forks, practically blinded by my own contempt.

My parents aren't in the living room when I get home but Jasper is. He's reclining on the sofa, in sweatpants he used to wear to gym and a t-shirt that used to be mine, watching some mindless sitcom. Wordlessly I step until I'm right in front of him. He straightens up, placing his feet on the floor and now I'm standing between his legs, looking down at him. His face is carefully blank.

I want to ask him but I know better so I just reach down and grab his hands, pulling them up before he can react. His knuckles are destroyed, bruised and cracked and swollen, thin lines of blood still seeping from the split skin. I fall to my knees, still gripping his hands in mine, shaking so fucking bad.

"E..." he whispers but I shake my head because I can't. I can't hear the justification he's going to pour into me and I can't hear that nickname in his too-sweet tone, not after what I've done, so I just shake my head until he shuts up. And I kneel there, clutching his bloodied hands in mine. He leans forward until his cheek is pressed against the top of my head and we stay that way for a while.

Until I remember that Sam was innocent in all of this fuckery, a blameless character sucked into the vortex that always seems to swirl between the two of us, and that thought allows me to push him away.

I don't sleep that night.

**0o0o0o0o**

It's New Year's Eve and Emmett is standing in my kitchen. So is Jasper. It's awkward because I've been avoiding him for the past two days but Emmett came looking for us both so this is inevitable.

"So New Year's party on the Rez tonight." Emmett bounces excitedly on the balls of his feet. "You guys in?"

"Sure," I shrug my assent because, let's face it, if I'm going to continue with this pity party I'm throwing myself then I may as well do it at an actual party. Unfortunately my pity party only gets worse with Jasper's next words.

"Can't. I promised I'd spend New Year's with Alice so I'm leaving in the next hour or so."

I catch Emmett's lightening fast eye flick to my face but I've already turned away, already out of the kitchen, already halfway up the staircase.

"I'll pick you up at 7!" he calls after me but I don't respond. He'll turn up anyway.

_I will not break. I will not break. I will not break._

I'm so fucking tired of hurting and I'm so fucking tired of being at the whim of this boy who won't fucking love me like I want him to, like I so desperately need him to, that when he's standing in the doorway of the guestroom, toeing the ground and telling me he's just about ready to leave, I just get up and close the door in his face. Because I'm so fucking angry it's all I can do.

I won't cry.

I won't beg.

I'm done.

**0o0o0o0o**

When Emmett turns up to fetch me I'm already half way to being rocked because I've been drinking scotch with my dad and that shit tastes like dirt but hell, it gets you right down to your toes.

"You alright man?"

His voice is soft, kind, and I simply hum in whatever, not really looking at him, getting in his truck and turning the music up. He side-eye's me but says nothing.

The party is already buzzing by the time we get there and I spot Jessica and Eric with the Clearwater kid so I make my way over to them and drop into their little circle. They pull me into the conversation without blinking and soon I'm laughing and chatting like everything is fucking a-okay, Clearwater giving me the 'you're my hero' looks, because it turns out I can fake it like a motherfucker when I need to.

We drink and we chat and I mingle some, talking to Rosalie and hanging with Bella, who seems to be getting it from one of the Native boys, and suddenly it's really late and everyone's doing the countdown and I can't take one more fucking second of the lie so I slip away and head to the water where it's darker, where people can't see, where I can't bring anybody down.

I sit down hard in the wet sand, tears stinging my eyes, a Jasper-sized hole in my heart, and I stare out at the water, watching the waves roll steadily and wishing that life was that easy; wishing that when people rolled away from you there was some assurance that they would eventually roll back.

I hear the cheer from the bonfires and know the bell has struck and I'm staring at the waves harder, trying to pretend that it doesn't fucking matter, when the buzzing against my thigh makes itself known. My hand goes to my pocket automatically and I answer the phone that only one person will ever be ringing.

"Happy New Year E."

His voice is thick, full of something that it injures me too much to recognise so I end the call, pull my arm back and watch the phone arc through the air to be swallowed by the mocking surf.

"Shouldn't you be with Rosalie?"

Emmett's not in my eye line but I can tell he's shrugging his shoulders. He drops down beside me and bumps my arm gently.

"She gets it."

We sit and watch the waves for a bit, Emmett calm and solid, me struggling to keep the turmoil in me from swallowing me whole.

"So...New Year's resolutions?"

I give a harsh laugh and Emmett turns his head to me, an eyebrow quirked. I only have one resolution but to voice it makes it real. Am I ready for that? My heart says no but I can't go on like this. I have to be ready.

"Letting go," I reply cryptically but he nods, understanding. People don't give Emmett credit. He's an observer.

"You okay with that?" His tone is neutral but I know what he's asking.

"I have to be," I sigh.

Fuck this sucks.

I turn to him, tucking my leg clumsily under me. I need to talk this out, need to get it out of my head, and Emmett is easily the best person to talk to. He listens without judgement and he never interrupts.

"I can't go on like this," I start, waving my arms at myself, "Like half a fucking person because he won't love me. Or can't love me. Or doesn't love me. Whatever."

I'm aware of the bitterness in my voice and this is what I need to leech from my bones. In a healthy way this time. In a way that won't get people hurt.

"I just... it's just...he's..." I trail off, scrubbing my eyes and Emmett's arm is around my shoulder, his side pressed against me and tears are running over my skin because all I seem to do is cry over this boy and it has to be enough now. It has to be.

So I whisper my darkest secret into the black night, sending it out into the ether, because if I'm going to do what I'm going to do then I need to let it all go.

"I have to assume Fate has allowed us to meet in this life to make it easier for me the next time around, so that I know what I'm looking for. I have to assume she's doing me a favour because otherwise she's nothing but a bitch teasing me with everything I want but can't have."

**0o0o0o0o**

Three days and one hell of a hangover later, I'm in my parent's car driving them to the airport. Mama is chatty on the journey but I know she's just trying to cover for her reluctance to leave me in Forks alone. I smile and nod at appropriate times and I try hard not to give her any further reason to worry. Dad is sitting in the back, clearly uncomfortable that his son is driving him anywhere but, other than that, he seems pretty content.

Last night he called me into his office and gave me the details of my new, very full, bank account that I wasn't expecting and the number of a guy he knows to call about some piano work. I promised to call his acquaintance and not to spend all my money on "beer and hookers", only cringing a little bit at my dad saying hookers in my presence. He's equipped me with everything I need to survive and now his mind is on bigger things.

After a tearful farewell at the airport from mama and some stern advice from dad, I wave them aboard the plane and escape to the short-term car-park. I drive home slowly, knowing that when I get back to Forks I'll be really alone. No parents. No Jasper. His name sends a spiral of pain through me and I flick my eyes to the side, something bright catching my attention. I'm parked, out of the car and pushing open the door without really thinking about it.

"Help you?" The heavily tattooed woman behind the counter looks at me speculatively. I hesitate a second before pulling out my wallet and extracting the piece of paper I've been carrying around with me since that night. Her face loses its disinterest when she sees I'm not interested in the flash art that adorns the walls. By the time I've explained what I want and we've gone through options, she's gotten real enthusiastic and I've been here for an hour. She calls out the tattoo artist and the three of us spend another fifteen minutes sketching and talking fonts.

Before I know it the papers are signed and I'm in the chair, shirt off, tattooed woman standing to the left of me because, "we've never done one of these before, I wanna see how it looks", tattoo artist checking the area under my collarbone for hair.

"S'clean," he nods in approval and we take another few minutes applying the stencil to the exact location I want. Once it's perfect, he gets to work.

It doesn't hurt like I was expecting, more of a stinging scratch, but nothing unbearable. He asks me the meaning behind my ink but I can't imagine describing the memory of tracing paper on my skin and my shaking hand as I followed the lines _so_ carefully so I just shrug and smile apologetically and he nods understandingly.

Forty-five minutes later, I've got a thin bandage on my shoulder, tattoo goo in my pocket and an aftercare sheet clutched in my hand. I'm still dazed as I make it to the car and get in. I want to look but the sheet is very clear on leaving the bandage in place so I do exactly as instructed.

I resist all damn day, although the urge to look is almost overwhelming. Finally it's dark enough outside for me to justify going to bed so I head for the bathroom and peel off the bandage, leaning close to the mirror. The needle damage has made the skin raise like a scar and I resist the temptation to run my unwashed fingers across it.

Once I'm clean, I use a warm washcloth to gently cleanse the dried blood and leftover ink from the area and apply a thin layer of the gunk the tattooed woman assured me would help with healing. I shiver as the pad of my finger traces the raised outline of the word I've permanently etched on my skin.

I step back a foot from the mirror and the white ink blends almost perfectly with my pale hue; a mark only I know to look for. My permanent reminder. My quiet declaration.

I step to the mirror and really look at the mark and the sight of Jasper's name, in his hand, forever etched on my body makes me wildly sad but I need this.

I know it's time, I do, but I needed something to remind me that all of this was real, that it did take place and that I didn't dream the most perfect thing to ever happen to me. I trace the mark once again, my breath shaky, then turn, determined to carry on with my new beginning.

I pause outside my bedroom door, the bedroom I haven't stepped foot in since that night, and push it open with my toe. Careful. Cautious. Everything is exactly as I left it and I'm both relieved and distressed by this. My finger automatically travels to my collarbone.

Still there. Still real.

I step slowly into the room and my world doesn't end. My chucks are still under the desk where I kicked them off. The drawer that Jasper tipped out is still on the floor, my underwear is still strewn across the carpet. My bed is still rumpled from where I carelessly threw the quilt back the morning after.

I close the door, not bothering to turn on the light, and sit down on the edge of my bed. Thankfully it doesn't smell of anything but me anymore and for this one small thing I am grateful. I close my eyes a second and just let my brain whir like it wants to.

I'm thinking about what I told Emmett on the beach and it shreds my already destroyed heart but I know it's the right thing. It's time for me to let Jasper go. He was never mine, not in this lifetime, so I'll set myself free of him and hope that our time comes in the next incarnation.

I lay down on my bed and something hard digs into my arm. My fingers touch silk and suddenly my heart is pounding and my palms are sweaty. I turn on the lamp and reach for what's on my pillow and I think Fate, the bitch, must have a real twisted sense of humour because I open the familiar scarf to reveal Jasper's dad's watch.

Damn it all to hell.


	3. Chapter 3

**My deepest and sincerest apologies for the ridiculous wait for this final chapter. I won't waste time with excuses, I'm sure you don't care. If you're here then you've already read the first two chapters so I won't bother with warnings either.**

**Last chapter, the line I stole was from 1952 Vincent Black Lightening by Richard Thompson.**

**You can thank this song http :/ .com /watch?v=0AovtZ1Zxdw&feature=fvsr for encouraging these boys to speak to me again.**

**All my adoration for my fearless cheerleader, arse-kicker and beta for this chapter, Lovelybrutal, who was absolutely instrumental in getting this written and to a state in which I felt I could share it.**

* * *

><p>When the phone rings, Riley's mouth is on my neck and his hands are in my jeans. I shift under him, trying to stay with it, trying to ignore the buzzing, but it's a losing battle and we both know it. Riley tries to keep me, whispers, "<em>Edward, ignore it<em>," in my ear, following his words with a warm tongue, and fuck it feels good, but my brain's already checked out.

I shift under him again, annoyed now, feeling like shit when he sighs and moves off me, but not shit enough to stop me from jumping off the couch and practically diving on the handset.

"Might be my Dad," I mumble over my shoulder, embarrassed, but Riley's fiddling with his mobile, not looking at me, shoulders defensive. I feel shittier, but it doesn't stop me picking up the handset and heading into the kitchen.

"Hello?"

"Good evening, sir," The unknown voice nearly makes me slump, but I fight it off, angry at myself. I can't believe I'm still doing this. I feel like a dick.

"Yeah?" I reply, tone sharp.

"This is an AT&T collect call from Columbus, Georgia. Do you accept the charges?"

Georgia. Only one person I know is in Georgia. I can feel stupid tears in my eyes, and I have to bite the inside of my mouth to ground myself. My hands are shaking, and I can feel the cool plastic of the receiver tapping gently against my ear.

"Sir?" The voice sounds impatient with my hesitation, and I make an instant decision.

"No." And I hang up.

Just like that.

**0o0o0o**

The evening is, of course, ruined. I try to keep it together during Riley's romantic meal. He brought all the stuff over and cooked it in my mama's kitchen, singing and shaking his ass to songs on the radio. Every now and again he'd grin at me over his shoulder, and I'd have to force back thoughts of low-slung jeans and bare feet.

Riley's finally given up trying to hold a conversation, and is staring miserably into his mostly-full plate. I want to make it better, I really do, but I just don't have it in me. All my brain power is taken up with not thinking about who I'm not thinking about, and there's just no space for anything else right now.

"Edward, I'm going to go," Riley says, his voice just so _hurt_, and it fucking kills me that _that_ doesn't kill me. I just nod, because he shouldn't be around me when I'm like this. His face falls even more, and I know he wants me to make him stay, to show him _something, _and I will. Just not tonight.

I see him to the door, kiss him, thank him for the food, and watch him walk away – all without feeling a fraction of what I feel for the fucking ghost in my life.

I call Bella. She sounds busy, but I don't hang up, selfishly wanting to just connect with someone who remembers what it was like before. All my Jasper updates come through Bella, via Alice. Bella's the reason I know Jasper was crashing with Alice. Bella's the reason I know Jasper joined the army.

"He called me tonight." I hear Bella's breath catch. I've heard nothing from Jasper in nearly seven months.

"Are you okay?"

I smile, because Bella would be just so fucking perfect if only I could love her. And then I'm not smiling anymore.

"I didn't take the call."

She's quiet at that. She knows how hurt I've been over this whole thing, how hard I've been trying to move on. She's met Riley.

"It was a collect call," I babble into her silence, "I only think it was him...I mean, it could have been anyone really..."

"Edward," she interrupts me, her voice so fucking gentle, and I _know_ I'm crying but I'm refusing to acknowledge it.

"It was him," I whisper, "I just...Bella, I just can't."

"I know," she soothes, her voice soft against my inappropriate pain, "I know." She stays on the phone with me, sweet and forgiving and so much more than I deserve, until I've pulled myself together. She tells me, kindly, to leave the past where it is, and get on with my life now.

When I get hang up with her, I text Riley and apologise for being a dick, offer to take him to dinner the next night to make up. His text back is as enthusiastic as ever. I lie in bed, but I'm not sleeping. I try to pretend I don't know why.

**0o0o0o0o**

I'm trying to get a handle on the piece I've been hired to play at the launch of some car or perfume or whatever, when my mobile rings. I glance at the caller id, and freeze. Georgia area code. I know. I've looked it up. Even as I'm debating ignoring it, my hand has already raised the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" My voice actually quivers.

"Is this Mr Edward Cullen?"

It takes me a minute to think enough to form words. This official voice has wrecked every defence I've built over the last seven months. Fear is churning in my gut.

"Yes," I whisper, desperately wishing the answer was no.

"We have you down as the next of kin contact for a Mr Jasper Whitlock."

"Oh God." Black spots are swimming in front of my eyes, and I slide down the wall until my knees are bunched up under my chin. I'm aware that I'm chanting under my breath, a litany of nonsense, but I can't focus over the overwhelming inability to breathe around the blackness in my chest.

"Sir? Sir?"

It takes a few minutes before I'm hearing the voice clearly enough to interpret what it's telling me correctly.

"Sir, Mr Whitlock is fine."

"What?" I manage over the ragged, gasping rattling my chest.

"Mr Whitlock is not dead," the voice informs me hastily, sounding more than a little panicked.

"You swear?" I demand, sounding like a little kid and not caring.

"I do," the voice replies solemnly, and I'm crying again. I'm so fucking tired of crying.

"Sir, I'm calling to inform you that Mr Whitlock is being held at the Army Regional Confinement Facility in Fort Carson, Colorado."

"He's what?" I reply stupidly, still coming to terms with the fact that this phone call isn't a 'we're sorry to inform you' call.

"Sir," the voice is starting to sound weary now, "Mr Whitlock is going to need legal representation. Are you able to provide that?"

"Repre...yes, yes of course."

I take the rest of the information down, and within the hour I'm heading to the airport.

**0o0o0o0o**

Jasper's head is down and his hands are shackled when they bring him into the room they're making me wait in. He doesn't look up. His shoulders are a slumped line of defeat and, fuck, it doesn't suit him.

"Jas?"

His head snaps up so fast that I recoil instinctively. His eyes are so wide, pulling me in like I'm unexpected, and I tear a little inside.

"E," he whispers in a rough voice, and it's then I notice the bruises on his face, on his throat, and the angled way he's holding himself. I tense to speak, but all the life in his eyes just drops right out, shocking me silent. He dips his head away from me, and takes a seat in the hard plastic chair across the table from mine.

"What are you doing here?"

"What?" I'm indignant, maybe a little angry at his question, "Where the hell else would I be?"

He shrugs, slumping down, and I don't know what to do. Jasper doesn't let anything break him, not ever. I want to ask what's going on but I don't know if I have the right, so I sit down opposite him and say nothing. It's uncomfortable, being this close to him. His misery is mine and always has been, except I don't know how to deal with it, don't know what I'm allowed any more.

Carefully, I shift forward in my seat and bump my knees against his. He tenses with his entire body, growing so still it frightens me, but I won't back down. I edge closer still, spreading my knees, bracketing his with mine, pressing them together lightly. He lets out an explosive sigh, and the tightness falls from his muscles. He slides forward, his head bouncing onto his forearms on the table. I want to touch his hair, give him something, anything, to take away this horrifying _yielding_ that he's wearing. It sits wrong on the lines of him, warping who he is, making me ache to drag him up, shake him, do _something_...

"You said," he whispers, his voice a low petulance, sad and thin, "You said you'd always want to speak to me. You said."

My entire body stiffens as I realise that this beaten Jasper is my fault. All my fault. My heart is in my throat and if I could rip out the traitorous piece of shit and give it to him now, if I thought the gesture would mean anything to him, I would. I swear to God, I would.

"Jas," I try to answer, but my voice is clogged, so I lean over the table, as close as I can get, and push my fingers into his hair. His miserable whimper breaks me. I bring my head down next to his, smoothing his scalp tenderly, pressing the sides of our heads together.

"Jasper," I whisper over his little noises of distress, "Jasper, listen to me. I was a dick, and I'm so fucking sorry, I can't even tell you. I always want to talk to you, and I'm so fucking sick with myself that I forgot that. You're my best friend, still and forever."

He makes a fierce noise in his throat, and presses his head more firmly against mine, his hands finding my forearms and just _clinging_. I hold onto him whilst he shakes, not sure if it's possible to hate myself more.

**0o0o0o0o**

Aro is tall, imposing, immaculate, and the best damn lawyer on the west coast. Possibly both coasts. I smile at him when he takes a seat, and he gives me the briefest quirk of lips before turning his eyes to Jasper.

Overnight, Jasper has become more himself. I'm glad, and a part of that is because of how damn guilty I felt. He's still shaky, but I recognise his movements today and that's a big improvement.

"Gentlemen." Aro's voice is smooth, all business. I sit back and let him take the lead, do what he does best. "Now we've already run over the issues on the phone so I'd like to move right along to our defence, unless you have anything to add, Mr Whitlock?"

Jasper's eyes flash to me, so fast I doubt Aro even registers the movement, before he shakes his head. Aro nods approvingly, reaching into his briefcase. I'm still staring at Jasper, trying to figure out if he's trying to protect me or trying to hide something.

Aro starts talking and I take the opportunity to study Jasper. He looks...different. I mean, it's not like I expected him to stay the same, but he looks...yeah, different. He's carrying more muscle, his skin has a sun sheen, and his hair is shorter than I've ever seen it. I like it, but I don't. All these changes, subtle but there, remind me of the seven months I've missed, of the fact that we haven't been in contact, that this Jasper could be a stranger to me. That thought makes my neck tense, and Jasper twitches in response. It kills me that we're still so fucking aware of each other.

I'm still cataloguing differences in small glances, when I notice the line of Jasper's shoulders. Tight and straight, they spell trouble ahead. I tune back into the conversation as his knuckles are turning white against the scratched Formica tabletop.

"...be prudent to discuss your past." Aro is rummaging in his briefcase again, but I know what he was talking about. Jasper's face is stone, and I can feel the storm in him just lashing to get out. I shift in my seat until he looks up and I can catch his eye. I'm furious, telling him to shut the fuck up with my eyes. I don't give a shit if Aro tells the judge, or whoever presides over this thing, every single move Jasper has made since he was born, as long as it keeps him out of the State Penitentiary.

To my total shock, it works. He nods almost imperceptibly, and drops his head. What the fuck?I'm geared up for one of our silent fights, and it kinda knocks me that Jasper just _gives in. _I slouch back in my chair, nonplussed.

Aro tells us the hearing will be in two days, then glides out of the room in a whoosh of Armani and expensive aftershave, leaving awkwardness and silence behind. Jasper is sitting straight in his chair, but he won't meet my eye. I'm squirming, unsure and hating it, so I nudge his shoe until he looks up, and try for a grin. It falls about four million miles short, but I get a ghost of a smile back. It makes me ache for _before_, and I impulsively grab his fingers and squeeze. Jasper lowers his forehead onto my hand, and squeezes back gently.

My chest is tight at the feel of his skin on mine, and apparently I'm a masochist because it seems I'm out to destroy my own heart with longing for this beautiful, imperfect, fucked-up man whose fingers are pressed against mine like it's where they were meant to be.

"E?" he starts, but I can't with the vulnerability in his voice and in his eyes, so I untangle my hand and stand up, so fast my chair rocks before settling. Jasper remains seated, looking up at me.

"Try and get some sleep tonight," I say, just for something to say. It sounds stupid. I feel like a dick. "We've got a case to win tomorrow, or some shit." My try for humour is a fail too. He smiles at me, or tries to.

Before I can check myself, I'm swooping in and kissing the top of his head. Because I can't stand to have him look at me with those eyes. Because it's all I can reach. Because I'm an idiot and I still fucking love him.

I call Riley as soon as I'm outside, and update him on the progress of the case, letting him know I'll be gone a few more days. He's upbeat, telling me it'll all work out, that he's got every faith in me. I hang up feeling more like shit than ever.

**0o0o0o0o**

I sit outside for the actual hearing. Aro asked if I wanted to come in, but I don't want to put more pressure on Jasper so I defer to the hard sofas outside the room. I know there's a possibility I'll be called as a character witness, so I'm trying to psych myself up for that.

It's an hour before the door opens and I'm invited in. Aro and Jasper are on one side of a desk, another lawyer on the other side, sitting next to a bruised man who's clearly not happy with the way things are going. He looks at me and his face twists, and I see Aro put his hand on Jasper's arm out of the corner of my eye. I want to tell him that's not what Jasper needs when he's ready to explode, but I move to their side of the table instead, ignoring Aro and sitting on Jasper's other side. I press my thigh against his, trying to calm him through touch like he used to do to me, not willing to see him ruin whatever chance he's got over an explosion of temper.

The man across from us makes a disgusted noise, and I can feel Jasper's jaw tense. I'm frantically trying to come up with something to defuse him when the man at the end of the table, who's clearly in charge of proceedings, clears his throat very fucking obviously, and stares down angry boy until he drops his head, sullen stretched all over his face.

Jasper is still stiff against me, but the tremble of urgency has gone out of his body so I think I can relax a moment.

"Mr Cullen."

I jump like an idiot and Jasper's fingers are on my wrist, just lightly pressing, and I can feel his concern. I take a deep breath, valiantly_ not_ looking at my wrist, and raise my eyes to the end of the table. Two men, one clearly in charge and one clearly from the army, sit side by side, one watching me, one watching Jasper. I smile, but it feels wrong on my face.

"Do you need a character reference?" I ask before I can check my tongue, cringing at how naive that sounded. They both smile at me, and in-charge guy shakes his head.

"We've already heard from Jasper's superior," he inclines his head at army guy next to him, who smiles warmly at Jasper. Jasper ducks his head, and I swallow down a stupid lump of jealousy that appears in my throat, "and from your father."

"My Dad?"

"I contacted him," Aro interjects smoothly, "and he managed to find a stable enough internet point to give a character statement via satellite."

In-charge guy clears his throat and everyone in the room turns to him.

"Given his past, and today's character references, I have decided that probation is the most suitable punishment for Mr Whitlock's crime."

Angry boy across from us looks ready to explode until army man gives him a truly evil glare. I'm barely paying attention to that drama, too busy hearing 'probation' echoing in my head. I can feel myself grinning like an idiot, and I don't even care.

"There _are_ conditions, Mr Whitlock," in-charge guy continues.

"He agrees to them," I interject without thinking, and army guy snorts, before trying to turn it into a cough. I can feel that I'm blushing like a moron, but I refuse to look away from in-charge guy in case he changes his mind.

"You'll be required to see an appointed therapist once a month," in-charge guy continues.

"We'll take care of that," Army guy interjects, "Complete it successfully and we should be looking at an honourable discharge."

In-charge guy nods at him, before turning to me.

"Mr Whitlock will also be under curfew, and required to report to an army-appointed probation officer. As a condition, he is required to live with a morally upstanding guardian for the duration of his probationary period."

The room falls silent as I watch in-charge guy intently, waiting for the rest of the conditions. Aro looks at me pointedly, until eventually he says, "Are you willing to have Mr Whitlock under your roof for his probation, Mr Cullen?" his tone suggesting he thinks I'm being dense. Which I am, because it's just dawning on me that they want Jasper to live with me. In my house. All the time.

My mind goes blank, and my face must too because in-charge guy and army guy are looking worried now, exchanging a glance, before in-charge guys prompts, "Mr Cullen?"

"What? Oh _Oh! _ Yes, yes of course, that's fine."

"What?" Angry boy finally explodes, "Are you fucking kidding me? This is bullshit!"

Jasper is stiff beside me so I grab his arm to ground him, and watch as army guy grabs angry boy by the scruff of the neck, hauls him to the door and turfs him out. His lawyer scrambles to follow.

There is silence for a few moments before in-charge guy and Aro start talking paperwork, and army guy drags Jasper to the side of the room, hand on his shoulder, whispering intently into his ear. Jasper is shooting me little questioning looks, and I'm sitting at the table wondering what the fuck I'm doing, because Jasper is going to be living with me.

**0o0o0o0o**

I'm standing outside, waiting for Jasper to finish up doing what he needs to do, when his phone rings. I hesitate a moment, before fishing it out of his coat pocket and answering.

"Oh, hi Edward!"

I fucking hate Alice Brandon.

"Is Jasper around? How did it go today?"

"If you'd been here, you'd know," I snap back, fury churning my gut at the sound of her voice.

"What?" Alice replies, sounding sweet and confused. I clench my jaw hard. "Jasper knows I couldn't leave college."

"Did he call you last Saturday, Alice?"

"What?" She's just confused now. "Edward, are you okay?"

"It's a simple question," I grind out, fingers gripping the cell like a vice, "Did Jasper call you last Saturday?"

"Yes, Edward," she replies, her voice taking a pissy tone that is not helping my temper any, "and we spoke, and everything was fine."

"Fine? Everything can't possibly have been fine if Jasper went out that same night and got into some fucking bar fight, Alice, you stupid fucking bitch."

"Edward!" Her voice is a squeal, high with outrage, but years of vitriol are right there under my skin, begging to be released.

"Shut up, Alice," I hiss into the mouthpiece, "You've never understood him, never even made a fucking effort to. You never deserved him. Stay the fuck away Alice, I swear to God you had better stay away."

I hang up, hands shaking so hard, and I can already taste regret on my tongue. Fuck! She's gonna call Jasper and... Fuck!

There's a cough behind me, and my spine is trying to crawl up through my neck because _of course_ Jasper is standing right behind me, it wouldn't be my fucked up life if he wasn't.

"Who was that?" he enquires, voice cool. I don't look at him as I hand him his belongings.

"Uh, Alice," I manage to croak. I still can't look at him, so I keep my eyes on his hand, which is turning his phone around. The phone I used to have a duplicate of.

"Okay," he shrugs, and tosses the cell into the trashcan ten feet away. Perfect aim. Bastard.

I look up, baffled. I don't know what this means, if it means anything. _Does it have to?_ my inner voice whispers. I ignore it. Jasper smiles at me, and bumps my shoulder.

"No point having it now, is there?"

He doesn't say it, but the implication is clear. My face burns with shame, but he merely bumps my shoulder again and heads off down the street. He stops a few feet away and raises an eyebrow. I hurry to catch up.

_**0o0o0o**_

The journey home is painfully awkward. At least, it is for me. Jasper seems like he doesn't have a care in the world, all "thank you, ma'am" at the flight attendant's, and friendly grins at the baggage handlers. Me, on the other hand, I feel like one thing out of place and my entire skeleton will dissolve. Jasper is coming home to stay. With me. In the house where I eat, and sleep, and live. He'll meet Riley.

That thought has me nearly losing what little food I managed to consume on the flight. The world sways, and the edges of my vision darken threateningly. I can feel Jasper's hand on my shoulder, and where that would usually calm me, in this instance it only makes me panic harder.

What the fuck am I supposed to do? How do I introduce Jasper to my...to Riley? How do I even do that? I can hardly breathe, my legs collapsing under me. Jasper's arms are warm and solid and real around my treacherous body, his mouth (_fuck, his mouth_) dangerously close to brushing my ear as he whispers soothing platitudes into it. I need to get my shit together, right the fuck now.

"I'm seeing someone," I blurt out over my panting attempts at breath. No subtlety, just gasping confessions. Jasper guides me to one of the hard plastic airport chairs and sits me down, kneeling at my feet. I try to avoid his eyes but he's having none of it, ducking his head and, when that doesn't work, grabbing my chin in gentle fingers and raising my face to meet his.

"I know," he says.

Of course he knows. It was stupid of me to think that Bella was a one-way information highway. I look at Jasper, who looks back with a false smile ringing from his lips, but his eyes are telling me something different, are telling me that he's trying to be okay with what makes me happy. He squeezes my hand tight, and I squeeze back on reflex.

"I'm looking forward to..." Jasper trails off, looking at the ground and shoving an uncomfortable hand through his hair. When he looks back up at me, he's wearing a small, bittersweet grin that tugs at the dark, cobwebbed places in my heart. "Well, I'll meet him right?"

I nod, unable to do anything else, and he looks out at me from raw eyes a beat longer before huffing and pulling me to my feet. We head out towards the cab-stand with Jasper's hand clasping my forearm. I don't ask him to let go and he doesn't offer.

**0o0o0o **

Having Jasper back in my parents' home is harder than even I thought it would be. Bella called me the first night, pissed about the way I spoke to Alice and worried about my proximity to Jasper. I swore up and down that it was fine, that it would be fine. It's not.

He's bare feet and low-slung jeans in my kitchen. He's chest-deep laughs and sprawling limbs in front of my TV. He's bright smiles and shoulder-nudges on the staircase. He's dark rumination and closed doors in my spare room. He's ghost-breath and negative space in my bedroom. He's painfully gracious and unflinchingly bland at my dinner table.

As soon as he can, Jasper flees the awkward three-way dinner-date and Riley turns to me, his eyes flashing with trouble. I try to smile, defuse the situation, but Riley stares hard then throws down his napkin, an act so out of character than I flinch. I catch him at the front door.

"Riley, what..." but he cuts me off, voice strained.

"You didn't mention it was him," he says in a tone as close to a bark as I've ever heard from him. I stare at him dumbly. "You didn't tell me the guy you ran off to rescue, the guy you invited to live with you, was _that_ guy."

I am staggered by this turn of events, and Riley snorts as he reads my expression. He shakes his head and his face angry and hurt and already resigned.

"You think I didn't know some guy before me had turned you inside out, Edward?" I flinch at his words. "Your mask isn't as good as you think it is." I just stand there, feeling raw and exposed, facing Riley's anger with mute acceptance as my armour.

Riley's struggle to calm down is visible on his face, but I still recoil when he places a hand on the bare skin of my wrist. I've never done well with people seeing my weaknesses, and this is vulnerability at its purest.

"Look Edward," Riley sighs and brushes dark hair from his fringe, his fingers fretful against the strands. His face softens when he sees the rictus of horror I'm sure I'm sporting. "Call me in a few days, okay?" He brushes his lips, feather-light, over my cheekbone and I manage to stay still for that at least. He smiles, tries to, and leaves me staring into the encroaching darkness alone.

"You okay?"

I don't want Jasper to see me like this. I'm tired of throwing my failings at his feet. So I step out into the twilight and close the door behind me.

Jasper watches me closely for the next few days, and I feel more and more like I'm shaking apart in his presence. I swear I can hear his heartbeat clear through the house. I'm a mess. Jasper tried gentle teasing to ease my relentless tension, but it only made me coil harder. He tried forthrightness, subterfuge, blatant flattery, and everything in between, before settling on silent knife-edge _watching_.

It's doing neither of us any favours. Jasper's sessions with the therapist seem to be helping him, certainly far more than the equivalent high school therapy had, but he comes home and my inability to articulate anything ratchets up the stress on us both until the air we're breathing is oppressive with it.

"Edward."

Jasper's voice is a stone cracking off glass, and I freeze where I am, half-way in the hall and half-way in the kitchen. I can feel beads of sweat already forming on the back of my neck, and I will myself steady. It doesn't work.

"Edward, we need to talk."

I breathe, close my eyes, breathe, open my eyes, breathe, ready myself...and my cell rings.

Riley.

"I need to go," I mumble, sidling past, not touching. Jasper's eyes scorch my skin, his voiceless demands claw at me, so I do what I do best.

I escape.

In my car I mute the phone, throw it in the glove box, and slam on the loudest music I can find. I need to focus on anything that isn't standing in my doorway, watching me drive away.

**0o0o0o**

Hours later I open Riley's door and, instead of taking my shoes off like I usually do, walk straight to the living room. I know it's time to put what's going on between us to rest, and my gut is telling me this is how to do it.

I stand in the doorway watching the two of them, knowing that if I was ever meant to catch them, this wasn't the way. Riley is curled up on his side on the sofa, head in Sam's lap, pretending to read a book, but, in reality, his eyes are closed in bliss. Because Sam is stroking Riley's hair, digging his fingers in to caress the scalp, then pulling back to rub the strands between his fingertips. A constant, rhythmic motion that makes my stomach clench up in something that feels like happiness. For Riley.

I'm not stupid. I know Sam has hunted Riley out specifically because he was mine. I know they've most likely been fucking for a while, given how comfortably they're slotted together. I know Sam must have been planning some big reveal, something designed to show how he'd taken something that belonged to me, something designed to hurt me the way I hurt him; looking at him though, I suspect his plan has gone somewhat awry.

I tilt my head, curious and kind of charmed. I've never seen that expression on Sam's face, a sort of fierce tenderness that reminds me of the way... I shake my head at that thought, banishing it before it takes root, and the movement alerts Sam to my presence.

Sam's expression morphs into something that's just fierce, and he leaps to his feet. Riley makes a little startled noise, slipping toward the floor at the sudden movement, but Sam catches him in one arm and shoves him behind his bulk. I raise an eyebrow, I can't help it, and Sam bares his teeth, one arm still flung behind his back, pinning Riley into him.

I raise my hands in supplication, trying to indicate that I don't mean any harm. He relaxes a tiny amount, his eyes still on me, and Riley's head pops out from behind his shoulder. He squeaks when he sees me, eyes wide in his pale face, and Sam tenses again, but I shake my head at them both.

"It's okay." I keep my voice low, trying to control the situation. "Ri, it's okay."

"Shit, Edward!" His voice is high with panic. "Shit, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Sam's face is tight as Riley pulls away from him and moves towards me, mouth slanted in something resembling hurt. I know what he's thinking, and I want to reassure him, _Riley was never that relaxed with me_, but I don't think he'd take it so well right now. I'm just hoping Riley explains fast, before Sam shuts down completely. I remember how it felt when Sam shut down, and I shudder a little at the memory. Riley misinterprets.

"No, Edward, it wasn't like that," Riley's twisting his hands, eyes so big, "It wasn't like that at all."

Sam makes a sound, something like a wounded animal would, and Riley's head spins to him so fast that I can't believe I didn't see it before. He was never this attentive with me but then, did I give him the opportunity to be? I shake my head at myself, because I know I didn't.

"No! No..." Riley looks about ready to lose it, so I step forward, both sets of eyes snapping back to me.

"Relax, Ri," I murmur in my softest tone, "Just...it's okay."

"Edward," he whispers, and his voice is _anguish_, "I didn't want you to find out like this. I was gonna tell you, I just didn't know how. I didn't want to leave you when you were..." He trails off, looking at me, all compassion, and I _know_ I've been holding this beautiful man back with my stupidity and my selfishness. Riley steps forward a half-step, Sam matching his move.

"It's just...you were so distant, Edward," his face is beseeching me to understand, and I want to tell him that I do, I _do_ understand, but he's already continuing, "I tried, I really did...but you never gave anything back. Then I met..." he gestures over his shoulder to Sam, who looks like he's forgotten me completely, "And it was so _right_, Edward, you know? It was so perfect. He...he takes care of me, and he listens to me, and...and..."

Riley's face is crumpling, that emotion he's always got so close to the surface just bubbling to get out, and I'm stepping forward to offer comfort before I really think about it. Sam's low growl stops me dead in my tracks, and I watch as he steps in behind Riley, pulling him around and into him. Riley's hands fist in his t-shirt, and Sam holds him whilst he shakes, all the time staring at me with that challenge in his eyes.

Looking at Sam, no distractions, I can see the scars Jasper's fists have left on him. Honestly, they make him look better. Sam was always beautiful, but those scars give him an extra layer, make him look gorgeous and dangerous and a little bit damaged. Truth? I would have given anyone up to Sam to make up for the shit storm I brought into his life and, in this moment, I'd happily get down on my knees and beg him to fuck me one last time if that's what he demanded.

His mouth twists a little, and I know my thoughts are showing in my eyes, but there's no triumph in his face. His arm tightens around Riley, and the movement helps me pull my shit back. I can tell by his eyes, hard and unwavering, that he's telling me Riley is his now, that he won't be giving him up. I give a tiny nod, letting him know I understand.

I'm not surprised that whatever he wanted from Riley originally has morphed into what it has. Riley has this thing about him, this little-boy-lost quality that just makes you want to take care of him, protect him and watch out for him. He needs it too, craves it almost. It wasn't something I could give, not to him.

Watching Sam be so guarded, I allow myself a small moment of wishful thinking, of what it would have been like if I'd given up to Sam when I'd had the chance, let him wrap me up in his protection and love. It makes something small in me ache a little, so I shake it off, knowing that I would have always been holding something back.

Riley turns to me, eyes wet, and I give him a smile. It's tinged with sadness, but it's got real happiness in it too.

"I'm sorry I held you back, Ri," I make the apology I know he deserves, "and I'm glad you've got someone who can give you everything you need. I'm not mad Ri, I swear."

Riley gives me a sad smile, but his fingers are still tight in Sam's t-shirt. He knows. I can see in his face that he knows I was never fair to him, not once in all the months we were together. Riley tries to move over to me and I know he's thinking goodbye hug, but Sam holds him tightly, and he gives in pretty much instantly. I turn and leave, because I've done what was required of me here.

**0o0o0o**

When I get home, feeling a little bit raw because, however good a cause, I _did_ just get dumped, Jasper is there. Obviously. I have a hard enough time facing him normally, I just don't have the countenance when I'm feeling this tender inside.

I try to walk past the living room, try not to notice him lounging shirtless on my mama's sofa, but I do. Fuck, I do. I head straight to the kitchen, hoping some time there will help me shore myself up enough to get through the evening, but my life is never that simple.

I can't hear his feet, bare as they are, but I know he's following me. I have a futile hope that he's going to the bathroom, even though I know he won't be. As if to prove me right, he shadows me into the kitchen, standing just behind me as I fill a glass at the sink.

"What's wrong, E?" His voice is soft, concerned, and I can't stop the slump of my shoulders at his tone. It's stupid, but it feels like forever since someone cared, really cared, about me. My heart reminds me that this is coming from the same boy who has shredded it over and over, my head reminds me that he's still my very best friend, and everything roils up inside me in a murky mess.

His hands are on my shoulders, painful in their gentleness, and I sink under them without thought. His skin feels so good after weeks of carefully avoiding it, his touch sating a craving I've lived with since the day I met him.

"Edward?"

My sigh is rough because I _love_ his tender voice. I like to think it's a voice he only ever uses with me.

"Riley and I broke up," I reply, not even sure why I'm telling him. His hands tighten momentarily, then loosen. I'm not stupid. I _know_ he didn't like my relationship with Riley. I tense, expecting...I don't even know _what_ I'm expecting...but his gentle hands simply start kneading my tired shoulders. I sigh because it feels so good, and he steps closer into me. I try to tense, I really do, but I can't muster the energy.

Jasper steps forward again, until he's pressed the length of my back, his hands shifting from rubbing my shoulders to stroking the length of my arms, starting right at the top and swishing down until his fingertips brush my wrists, before sliding back up again. Damn him, he always knows...

"Can you," he swallows, his voice low and close to my neck, "Can you do anything to...you know...win him back?" I can hear that every word of that was like swallowing razorblades for him, and I'm so fucking absurdly grateful that I grab one of his hands as it ghosts my wrist and squeeze tightly. Jasper's breath hitches, and I try very hard to pretend I haven't noticed.

"Since he's been fucking Sam for a while now, and they're completely perfect together, I sincerely doubt it." My voice is more wrecked than I expected, but it's more to do with Jasper's closeness than anything Riley has done. Jasper's body goes rigid against me, and his breathing is short.

"He...but...he..." I can hear in Jasper's voice that he's working into a rage, so I squeeze again at the hand I'm still inexplicably clutching to bring him down.

"Calm down Jas," I murmur, "It isn't like I gave him much of a chance, is it?"

"What?" Jasper's voice is tight with confusion and incomprehension, "Edward, that doesn't mean he can go jump on someone else's cock. You're worth more than that."

I laugh, I can't help myself, I just laugh at the sheer irony of this conversation. I twist and suddenly Jasper is right there, face furrowed in a frown, pressed all down my front, waiting for me to explain my moment of extreme humour. I can't think though, not with him this close.

"Edward?" he asks, but he's breathless too, like he's just realised, like he's just noticed. I shake my head, but it's a weak movement, more of a twitch than anything else. I close my eyes against his impossible gaze, and work to harden my heart against him.

"Yeah," I laugh again, harsh and humourless, "I should have told him that pussy is the way to go when screwing me over."

And it's out there. I can't even bring myself to wince at the undisguised ache in my voice. I've effectively announced how much hurt I've been in all this time. Fuck. I push back against Jasper, trying to move, trying to get away, but he won't let me.

"Edward," he whispers again, and his voice _wounds_ me, all soft with craving and need, "please," then his mouth is on my skin, pressing so lightly under my ear, and I make a noise that's part pleasure, part misery, and I don't even know which one is the dominant one because this, _this_ mix, feels like everything I've ever known with Jasper. My heart is screaming at me, and all I want is to give in, but I can't. I can't.

I try harder to push him away, but it's like he's gotten a taste of capitulation and isn't willing to give it up. He clings to me, fingers digging in, and we struggle with each other in my parent's kitchen like idiots. I go down because, let's face it, it wouldn't happen any other way, Jasper is too strong and too skilful for me to hold off for long. He comes down with me, and I'm flat on my stomach with Jasper on all down my back, holding me as I fight him.

"Edward, Edward, " he's begging against my hair, against the horrible keening noises that are tearing from my chest. My face is soaked with tears I'm shedding for wounds I thought I'd cried myself dry over, and his weight, his warmth, his very presence is bringing me a calm I don't want. Not from him.

I struggle harder, intent on breaking free, ignoring my groaning muscles, and the way the bones in my arms are straining, panicked beyond belief at being laid open to this man once again.

Suddenly Jasper's teeth are on the nape of my neck, pressing hard enough to bloom a sharp pain across my skin. I freeze and Jasper remains where he is, teeth just this side of tight, holding firmly but not increasing. I remain still beneath him, feeling the rage and fear leeching out of me, Jasper's calm soaking through my skin and into my bones. Jasper's teeth loosen.

"Edward," he murmurs against my neck, "I love you."

I shake my head, trying so damn hard to close him out, but he won't be refused, mouth hot and moist on my skin. "I love you, Edward," he keeps murmuring, "I love you," over and over, forcing it into me.

"Jasper, stop," I beg, but he doesn't, continuously murmuring love into my skin between the gentle press of his lips.

"I've been running too long from you, Edward," he says, low but firm against my ear, "Running from how I feel, from what I want. I won't do it anymore."

Jasper slides his hands under me and flips me over, hardly moving himself, and I think stupidly that it must be some sort of move he learned in the army. He looks down at me, eyes so bright, so intense, and presses his lips to the bone under my eye.

"I've been so scared for so long about how much you mean to me, about how much I'd do to keep you safe, keep you happy. I was so messed up. And Alice..."

At that name I find a reserve of strength I've never known before, twisting and shoving hard, sending Jasper sprawling. I scramble to my feet, backing away from him and his treacherous heart.

"Don't you dare," I snarl, wounded, "Don't you _dare_ talk to me about her."

"I have to for you to understand," Jasper replies, inching closer to me. I sway on my toes, unwilling to stay, but unable to leave. Just like always.

"I was so messed up, E," he says, his eyes fixed on my face, "Maria had...what happened there...it really fucked me." I say nothing, waiting, ready to run.

"And there was you. Perfect, beautiful you who always took care of me and backed me up and I wanted you, fuck, Edward I _wanted_ you, but..." His face goes twisted, and I see that loss he wore when his mama died, "E, you're the only thing in this life I love, the only thing other than my mama I've ever loved, and I was so scared you'd leave, so scared I'd lose you. I couldn't...I didn't..." Jasper's breathing is ragged, and he's pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes like he can wring the pain out of himself if he pushes hard enough. I can't see him like this, so I step forward and catch his hands, pulling them down between us. He follows them until both our arms are trapped between our bodies, his forehead pressed into mine, my face wet with his tears.

"You terrify me, Edward," his mouth brushes mine as he speaks, "the way you are, the way you're so open for me, the way you make me feel so fucking _tender_ inside. I didn't think I deserved that. I still don't."

Rage fills me at those words, and I breathe in to yell at him, tensing to pull away, until I remember Sam, and the things I did because I thought I deserved them. It's enough to still me.

"I have this...monster," Jasper whispers, "Like a blackness in me. Sometimes I get so angry..." He pulls back to look at me, eyes shiny with tears, "I didn't want that touching you, not ever. I didn't want to fuck you up but...but I couldn't leave you alone. With Alice..." I tense, but he tightens his grip, and his expression turns earnest, "With Alice it was easy, because she didn't mean anything."

I blanch at his words. He lets me go, lets me put some distance between our bodies, can see that I'm reeling from it all. He's always been intuitive when it came to me, Jasper.

"I know it sounds cruel, E," he says, admitting out loud what I'm thinking, "but it's the truth. She was the easy option. I mean, I liked her, she's a real nice girl, but if she left me I'd be okay with it. If you left me..."

Jasper's face crumples briefly at the thought, and a flare of answering pain blooms in my stomach. He takes a minute, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, centring himself.

"The army has been great for me," he continues, throwing me with the sudden subject change. It must show on my face because he grins briefly, promising me with his quirked lips that he has a point. It still fucks me up that I can read him so well.

"They have amazing counselors, miles better than that court appointed shit I had to go to." He fixes me in that gaze again. "Do you know why I beat the shit outta that guy? Did I ever tell you?"

I shake my head because he hasn't told me. And I never asked.

"We were on leave, and Marcus wanted to meet up with one of his relatives, Alec." Angry boy, all rage so deep it had twisted him on the inside. Jasper nods at me. "We'd drunk a few beers, and the conversation turned to tattoos. Alec was showing off, and Marcus happened to mention mine."

My eyes widen because I didn't know Jasper had a tattoo. He smiles at me, a fond thing that makes his face almost too precious for me to look at.

"The company had been ragging on me about it because I wouldn't tell them what it stood for. Alec wanted to know about it, and I was just the right kind of drunk-maudlin to tell him. When I did he started getting real nasty, rude, bigoted. Marcus was trying to talk him down, but he took it too far and I snapped."

Jasper keeps his eyes on me as he unbuttons his jeans, and I'm too shocked so it takes me a few seconds to see what he's showing me. When I do see it, I stumble backwards, my fingers immediately flying to my collarbone. I'm staring at the royal blue E etched on his hip in my signature calligraphic flourish, but his eyes are on my hand.

"When?"

He looks confused, his eyes darting between my face and my hand, like he's mesmerised.

"When did you get it?" I repeat, my voice so fucking hard.

"The day after," he replies, still staring at my hand.

He steps forward, and I'm rooted to the floor, just watching his approach. His fingers are hesitant as they unbutton the top four buttons of my shirt and push it aside, exposing my entire shoulder. His eyes get so wide when they rest on the skin under my collarbone, and his index finger is gentle, tracing my camouflaged declaration.

"Edward." His voice is full of wonder and tears as he leans forward and runs his lips, then his tongue, across my marked skin. I shiver at the touch, unable not to. I can feel every wall I've built since Jasper moved in again crumbling to dust under his ministrations.

"I did wrong by you," he's mumbling into my collarbone, tongue flicking out to stroke my tattoo, "I did so wrong. But Edward, I want to make up for it...I _will_ make up for it...if you let me." I'm standing motionless, his body pressed against me, just trying to keep up.

"Edward, I...I hated Riley," Jasper won't look at me now, his voice thick, choked, "but I stayed out of it, wanted you to be happy. Did he make you happy?" Jasper's face is anxious in a way I've never seen on him, and a tiny, vicious _hurting_ part of me wants to say "_yes, yes he _did_ make me happy_" just to see him hurt, but a bigger part of me demands honesty. I shake my head, and the relief that floods his face makes me smile, just a little. He drops his eyes, swallows again.

"Edward...Edward, I want more with you, from you. I want all of it, all of _you_," he swallows again, and my stomach is a hard, knotty thing under my skin, "but...but if you want...something else...friends, then..." his face suddenly becomes determined, "then, E, I'll be the best fucking friend you'll ever see, I swear to God, E..."

He trails off, inches from me, waiting for my judgement. Every muscle in my body is tense, my brain in complete overload at being offered everything I've ever wanted, looking for the trick, looking for the lie.

"Jasper," I try to say, my throat dry, my voice gruff. I attempt to clear it, swallowing hard. "Jas...I..." I look at him, his beautiful, frightened face, and I want so _very_ badly, "I won't survive if you leave me again, I just can't," I whisper the ugly truth, unable to look him in the eye, trembling hard.

"Edward, I'm not going anywhere." Jasper's fingers find my chin, tip my head up, "I can't prove it to you other than with time but, Edward, I can't leave again. Seeing you with someone else...it was..."

I nod because I know exactly what he's saying. I remember that feeling very well. Jasper clutches my hands, his fingers so warm against mine, so right.

"Please, E," his voice so fucking earnest, "I'm not saying it'll be easy, I'm still...working on some things, but...Edward, I've never been sure of anything except you and...if you give me this one chance, I swear to God I will take such good care of you, I will."

I've never known Jasper to speak so much. His eyes on my skin feel so fucking perfect, and I can see it, I can _see_ how good we could be together if he does what he says, if he stops fighting and just gives in. My dad is in my head, my dad who believes that nothing worth having comes easy, and I close my eyes and just _surrender_.

Oh fuck, his mouth is perfection on mine. I sob against his lips because I've missed this, missed him so fucking badly, all of him. My hands aren't even mine when they start mindlessly pulling at his jeans, desperate to have him, all of him this time. I'm playing for keeps.

"E, I want you," he mumbles into my mouth, and I'm nodding and nodding and nodding, and he's guiding me backwards, towards the stairs, towards my bedroom. We're naked so fast my head spins, and he's on me, skin so hot, so gorgeous, coming home to me.

He takes his time readying me, gentle and loving, until my whole body is aching for him. I hold still, letting him do what he has to do. I feel his fingers on the base of my back, tracing my spine and then he's pushing inside, so excruciatingly slowly. My throat is immediately thick with tears because nothing, _nothing_ has ever felt as right as this moment. He's whispering gentle words until he's fully inside me, pressed against my skin inside and out, and I've never felt so entirely _me_ as I do right now.

His hands appear alongside mine and he presses his chest down on my back, and I can't think from all the skin on skin. My body is telling me that this exquisiteness is what it's been looking for all these months, my brain fizzing and popping in agreement, and, at last, I'm alive. His mouth is on my neck, my jaw, in my hair, and I try to concentrate on breathing and feeling, nothing more.

And then he starts talking.

At first I can't pay attention over the trueness of our connected bodies, but it's not long before his words begin to penetrate my bliss. His voice is a low murmur in my ear and he's thrusting gently and oh so fucking slowly against me, but my body is stiff. Part of my brain rebels against what he's doing, trying to cling to my fog of pleasure, but once the words are recognised I can't go back.

I shift beneath him, but he moves his hands until they're covering mine, holding me in place, relentless in his slow thrusting and the words tumbling from his lips. I shift harder but he won't let me.

"Jasper," I manage to gasp, but he shakes his head against my neck, kissing my ear and gently shushing me, before continuing his narrative, the tenderness of his tone belying the harshness of his words.

He continues fucking me, slow and deep and brutally sweet, as he tells me about the three years we were separated. His hands and his cock tease my body as his mouth tears at my insides. He tells me how it started, how Maria came to him one night a few weeks after the social worker left him there and got into his bed. He tells me how he was exclusively Maria's until a few days after his fifteenth birthday when she found a new toy to play with.

Then he became fair game.

He tells me about the sisters and how they used to play games to see who won him for the night. He tells me about their brand of loving. He tells me about the men, the drunken brutish men who would visit frequently. My entire body stiffens at this, but he smiles against my ear and whispers, "they didn't fuck me, E," and I'm relieved. Until he tells me what they did instead.

He tells me about being made to fight them. He tells me about the beatings, about having to learn to brawl, about the cruelty he was subjected to at the hands of these people Maria and her bitch sisters welcomed into their home.

He tells me about Felix and Demetri, brothers Maria favoured, and Caius, their cousin. He tells me about the drinking games they played. He tells me about their twisted idea of forfeit. He tells me about their teeth.

I'm sobbing, properly, heartbreakingly, throat achingly sobbing, as he tells me about being tied up, about the bites and the fists and the laughter. About the screaming and the fear and the desperate need to just survive, "for you E, I wanted to survive for you", to just get through each day.

He tells me about the night Maria found him curled up in the kitchen talking to me on the phone she had confiscated when he was delivered to her. He tells me about her fury, about her taunts that I wouldn't want him when I found out what he'd been doing for the last three years, that maybe he should invite me down so I could be properly introduced.

He tells me about the rage haze those words induced. He tells me about coming out of it hours later, covered in blood, surrounded by the bodies of his three main tormentors. He tells me how all he could think of was making sure I was safe; like he was on auto-pilot, he just had to get to me.

"I could take everything they threw at me E," he whispers, his lips brushing my ear, "but I couldn't take the threat to you. I couldn't allow even the slightest chance that they'd get the opportunity to touch you."

I'm sobbing so violently I'm shivering, Jasper's warm body creating a protective cage around me. He pushes against me, nuzzling my neck, sighing lightly against my ear, then whispers, "I fucking love you E, always."

I come hard, in a mess of wracking sobs and guttural moans that don't even sound like noises a human body should be able to make, and collapse, curling in on myself, Jasper curling around me as I sob for the boy I knew and the man I know and my love for them both that just aches so fucking beautifully right down inside my bones. His fingertips are gentle on my jaw as he hums soothingly.

Immediately I'm furious, shoving him and his fucking tenderness away, leaping from the bed. I can't stand to be touching him right now, and I whirl out of the room and down the dark hallway. I find myself in the kitchen, at the sink, gulping water like it's the last thing I'll ever drink. I hear Jasper's footsteps long before he enters the kitchen. He ducks gracefully as the glass I was holding in my hand shatters on the tiles where his head had been.

"You fucking bastard," I rasp, and I don't recognise my voice, hot and tender and still thick with grief, "You..." I can't finish that sentence because I don't have the words to articulate what I'm feeling right now.

Jasper is simply looking at me and the tender expression on his face infuriates me further. He steps forward and I scoot back an equal amount. He steps forward again, palms up, eyes on mine. My breathing is ragged, my chest throbbing from the need to be in his arms and the burden of his history, and I stare at him as if I'll get answers from this one action. He comes closer still and I've stopped backing away, my body crying out for his and I just can't deny that necessity.

"Why?" Again, my voice doesn't sound like it's mine. "Why now? Why in that moment? Why would you ruin something so beautiful?"

The smile he gives me is so fucking sad that my heart clenches. He's a foot from me now, and his fingers ghost down my cheek in a gesture so loving, so intimate, that I'm immediately crying again.

"I gave you what you needed Edward."

"What I needed?" I'm fucking incandescent with rage...and something else I can't name. "What I needed was..." I trail off, suddenly abashed. Jasper tilts his head, but I drop my eyes.

"Edward," Jasper's voice is close, soft, laced with adoration that's too painful to hear, "If we're going to be what we're meant to be, then we have to face our fears."

"I'm not..." but my voice dies abruptly because I hear what he isn't saying, and he's right. I was afraid. I've always been afraid. Afraid of his pain. All this time I didn't ask him about his past, I pretended it was because I didn't want to make him talk about such a distressing subject. Truth? I was terrified of his pain, terrified that it would be too much, terrified in a small, shameful part of my soul that it might make me view him differently.

My eyes find his again and I know he sees my anguish, but he makes no move to close the distance. It has to be me who bridges this gap. Jasper has given me everything tonight, made me face up to the one thing I couldn't face on my own, and it's my turn to help him conquer his demons.

I close the space between us, and press our bodies together, smiling in surprise when I realise we're both still naked. I feel Jasper's relief in the way he sags against me and winds his arms around my body, clutching me close. I let him stroke me and murmur in my hair a few minutes before I gently untangle our bodies and take his hand.

He follows me willingly, but I sense an underlying tension that I didn't have when he led me to the same place earlier in the evening. Of course I didn't know what was coming but Jasper? Jasper knows. And Jasper is frightened.

When we enter my room he goes immediately to the bed and climbs on, staying up on his hands and knees. I chuckle softly, an affectionate sound, and step close, my hand on his back encouraging him to lie on his stomach. He tries to ignore my intent for a moment but gives up quickly and I know it's nerves on his part. I crawl up until I'm kneeling over him, just taking in the ocean of skin below me. I start at his feet, intent on pressing my mouth to every single scar he carries, just like I wanted to that night so many months before. Jasper trembles underneath my lips and I know it's because this is it, his demon, the thing he's been terrified of for so long.

My love.

I kiss him gently, reverentially, and force all the beauty I feel when I look at him into my lips and onto his skin. His body is in an almost-constant shudder now, but that's okay because that's how it has to be. We've got to shake the kinks out before we can rebuild ourselves more durable than before.

When I reach the end of the scars on his back, I encourage him to flip over. He takes a moment, his breathing loud in the quiet, but he does as I ask. I start at his feet again, and cover him in my adoration. I can feel his muscles rebelling beneath my mouth, terrified of this unknown, overwhelming thing cresting his skin, but I can also feel him forcing himself down, forcing himself to endure. For me.

When I reach his face, his eyes are shut tight and his mouth is screwed up like he hurts. He does, but it's not a tangible pain that can be erased by pills and potions. It's an indefinable ache and I grimace because I know I'm going to make it worse before I can make it better, but that is what this night is for. So I kiss his lips until he opens his eyes, then I catch his gaze and start to speak.

As I caress his abdomen and down between his thighs, I tell him how beautiful he was that first time I saw him, standing up for a strange gawky kid he'd never met before. I tell him how I kind of worshipped him before I even knew what that meant, my solid, silent companion in everything I did.

I tell him how I loved the way he spoke, when he spoke, the gentle tenor of his words and the way his brow would crease with concentration when he was telling me something I needed to understand, something fundamental to who he was and, consequently, who I was.

I tell him my shameful secret when his mother died, feel him tense when I bring up that event and soothe him with gentle, tugging strokes to his cock and tender-fingered stretches at his hole.

I tell him how my love burned me from the inside out when he disappeared into Maria's grasping hands, how I shut down until his pained voice woke me up and set me into vicious motion once again. He clenches around my fingers when I tell him every hour in the gym was fuelled by his image in my mind.

I tell him how my love allowed me to share him with Alice, and kiss his faint-voiced protests quiet. He needs to hear this, he knows he does, but we all succumb to fear sometimes. I kiss his brow to indicate it's okay, and continue my story.

I tell him how much I loved him when he crawled into my bed, shower-fresh and clinging, and how my love twisted into a painful, flogging thing to match his bestial 'punishments' when I did something he disapproved of.

He lets me wrap his legs around my waist, keeps them there as I slide a pillow beneath his hips to angle him, and I whisper my love of his bare feet and his smiles, and the way he was always so patient with my Mama's mothering, no matter how smothering she must have been sometimes.

He's calescent around me as I slide inside him, forcing words through my satisfied groans, telling him about my darkest moments, telling him I gave up. He's crying now, devastating sobs, the kind that the abandoned cry, and he's clinging to my shoulders as I try to hush him and make him listen.

"E," he weeps, voice heavy with sorrow, "E, I can't..."

I time slow strokes of my hand down his length, with slow strokes of my cock inside him, lulling him wet-eyed and pliant beneath my body. I kiss him, slow when he wants to be desperate, letting my body guide him down through his frenzy.

When he's sufficiently gentled, I continue my intimate monologue, telling him the truth of it all, because that pain came from love and he needs to hear it. He shakes in my arms as I tell him how I tried to build my life around the eidolon of him, and how his father's watch shattered it all.

I tell him how I might have been happy with a Bella or a Lauren, had I never known he existed. I kiss his tear-dampened cheekbones as I tell him that I'm positive I knew him the moment we met, in the same way I'm positive we've been together in lifetimes before this. I tell him how colossal my love for him is, how deep and endlessly it burns, wiping through every defence I've ever tried to construct against him.

I tell him as I push inside him more insistently, making him curl up to meet me with little moist hiccupping moans, how I know him right down to my molecules, how I glow for him at the very base of what I am.

I tell him as I come inside his body, shivering and grunting and riding it out with little jerky humps of my hips against his ass, that he resides in the most primal part of my make-up; a part that I don't have access to when he isn't around to unlock it, but that I carry with me always.

As he lies, shaken and traumatised but with steady hands, like he might just be ready to come out the other side, I clutch him close and whisper against his temple that I'll love him in this life and every other, even the ones where we don't even meet; especially those ones.

I'm clammy and hoarse and prostrate with love for him as I reach down between our bodies and _rub rub rub_ until he arches and wails and fractures in my hands, then I kiss him soft and sweet and I can feel everything slipping away, leaving nothing behind but the tang of fresh wind and open futures.

We lay side by side, wounded but healing, then roll together in identical moments, Jasper's nose brushing my own. I look at this man in my bed, by my side, and I can see the boy he was, the boy I've always loved, and the man he is. He finally looks whole. It's a beautiful sight.

"I love you," he murmurs against my mouth, "I love you, I love you, I love you," and I fall asleep to the cadence of it brushing my lips like the touch of something imperfect and that much more alluring for it.

**0o0o0o**

I wake up to an empty bed and a dearth of body heat. For a second, just a second, my poor battered heart freezes. And then I remember.

Pulling on my boxers from the previous night, I stumble out of my room and down the staircase, toward the place my gut is pulling me to.

"Easy there," Jasper murmurs as I lurch into the kitchen, catching me in one arm, pausing a moment before pressing hot lips against the skin below my ear. I look into his eyes, looking for signs of running, before allowing myself to breathe. He gives me a smile, tentative at best, and pulls me closer.

"I'll earn your trust, E" he says into the skin of my shoulder and I nod in agreement. This Jasper will.

It won't be easy. I'm not naive enough to believe that. Jasper has a lot of work to do to make himself whole again, and I have a lot of work to do before I can see myself clearly, but what I do know is this. We're in this together, Jasper and I, and I'll take all the cruel words and taunts to come, all the unshakable love and devotion, because he may be a broken, fractured thing but so am I, in my own way, and now that I know he's willingly mine, I'd give up everything, even my own heart, just to keep him.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, that's the end of this journey. Thank you for sticking with me, thank you for reading and, for the very final time with these boys, feel free to leave me your thoughts.<strong>


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